


Cognovit

by RainyJane



Series: The Spiderbot Silhouette [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Pre-Avengers: Infinity War, Rogue Avengers, secret meetings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-10-04 08:46:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 34,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20468255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainyJane/pseuds/RainyJane
Summary: Wanda is free from the Raft prison, on the run with Steve and Sam. But she isn't willing to leave her relationship with Vision in shambles, even if it means risking her freedom.





	1. The Raft

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rogue Avengers imprisoned in the Raft are offered a deal to get out. But there's a catch.

Could I but ride indefinite  
As doth the Meadow Bee  
And visit only where I liked  
And No one visit me

And flirt all Day with Buttercups  
And marry whom I may  
And dwell a little everywhere  
Or better, run away

With no Police to follow  
Or chase Him if He do  
Till he should jump Peninsulas  
To get away from me—

I said “But just to be a Bee”  
Upon a Raft of air  
And row in Nowhere all Day long  
And anchor “off the Bar”

What Liberty! So Captives deem  
Who tight in Dungeons are.

~Emily Dickinson

"Take the deal, Clint," Wanda begged, leaning her head back against the wall of her cell on the floating prison.

"Not without you."

"They're never going to offer the deal to me. Not with my powers. Please, Clint. Your wife needs you. Your kids need you. I can take care of myself."

She wasn't sure how true that last claim was, but she said it with as much confidence as she could put in her voice.

It had been only a few minutes since General Ross left the room after telling them the Department of Justice and the U.N. had agreed to sentence the prisoners to house arrest if they pled guilty. When they learned the offer was only open to the three of the four prisoners with US citizenship, Clint had vehemently refused, and Scott had used some rather crude language to describe what he thought of the deal without Wanda's inclusion. Ross only nodded at their responses, said he'd give then twenty-four hours to think it over, and left.

The minute he was gone, Wanda had quietly but firmly told them she appreciated their gesture, but they should agree to the plea bargain. She'd been arguing with them ever since.

"It isn't fair," Scott said. "It isn't fair to offer this deal to everyone but you."

"Nothing in my life has ever been fair, but there's no reason for you to suffer because of that," she countered. "Scott, you have a little girl. Clint, you have your wife and kids. If you don't take this deal, you may never see them again. I don't have any loved ones on the outside. I'm fine in here."

"Listen to me, Wanda: I'm not leaving you here alone. I won't do that to you. I can't. Not when I'm the one who dragged you into this," Clint said. Though he didn't say it, she knew he was also thinking of Pietro, and the debt he felt he owed.

"What do you think would be worse for me," Wanda countered, "being in jail alone, or seeing my friends in jail because of me?"

"We're not the ones they put in a straitjacket and shock collar," Scott pointed out.

It took her a moment to think of something to say to that. "Which they may take off for good behavior."

"Fat chance," he said.

"Look, not that I don't like your company, but if you stay when you could have gone free, it will be torture for me. Clint, go back to your family. Give little Nate a hug from me. Let me think about you being free and happy. Give me that, please."

"I told you, I won't leave you here alone."

"She won't be alone," Sam said quietly. "I'm not taking the deal. But she's right. Clint, Scott, you should go. Your families need you."

"Sam..."

"Don't even try to talk me out of it, Wanda. I'm not staying for you; I'm staying for Cap. Don't even worry about me."

"Steve would want you to take the deal, too," she argued. "There's no reason for you to stay."

"No reason not to. Without the Avengers, I don't really have a home to be under house arrest in."

The only reason he would stay was for her. She knew it. They all knew it. But if he stayed, Clint and Scott would feel better about leaving. She sighed. "Thank you, Sam."

Clint and Scott didn't have any more objections.

* * *

She hated the straitjacket more than the collar. Not being able to move her arms meant not being able to stretch, scratch her nose, or even brush her own teeth—which, like all other matters of personal hygiene, was handled by robotic extensions that emerged from the walls of her cell at appointed times. But the loneliness was the worst part. In the silence of her cell, she sometimes stewed in anger over the unfairness of being locked up, but more often she sank into despondency. During those times, she'd think back over her miserable life, and wonder if maybe she deserved to be locked up.

At least she wasn't in solitary confinement any more. The guards had moved her to the cell next to Sam's, likely to make them easier to monitor, or to save energy by shutting off power to the unused cell blocks. Whatever the reason, she was grateful for the move. If she didn't have Sam to talk to, she might have gone crazy.

They sometimes went hours without talking, but sometimes they talked for hours. They conversed about the most insignificant things. They told each other the plot of every movie they could remember seeing. They once spent over an hour talking about good names for pets for every kind of animal they could think of. Sam told her stories from his childhood and military career. She started teaching him Sokovian.

"Sam, I have a confession to make," she said out of the blue one day.

"What?"

"I'm the one who put the coffee grounds in Tony's garbage disposal."

He laughed. "_You _did that?"

"I though that was where they're supposed to go!"

"Man. You deserve to be locked up for that," he joked.

"Hey, I feel bad. I hope I didn't break his sink."

"Well, that's what Tony gets for not just getting a normal coffee maker with normal coffee filters."

"I still feel bad. Do you think I should tell him?"

"Nah. Let him have some mystery in his life."

They fell silent for a few moments.

"Sam," she asked.

"Yeah?"

"Have you ever been in love?"

"Yeah, a few times. Why?"

"What's it like?"

"You never been in love before?"

"I don't know. I've had boyfriends, and crushes, but I don't know if I was really in love with any of them."

Sam thought for a moment before answering. "I guess it's a little different with everyone. You ever crave some food, and nothing else quite hits the spot? And then you finally get to eat that food, and you're like, 'yeah, that's what I needed.' That's kind of what it's like. You crave just being in the same room as them. If you're not feeling great, you just look at a picture of them and you feel better."

"Do you keep thinking about everything they ever said to you, every time they ever touched you, even if it was just a brush on accident?"

"That's called being infatuated," he said. A moment later, he asked, "Who are you thinking about?"

"No one, really. I'm just wondering if I'll ever get the chance to know what being in love feels like," she lied. They both knew everything they said was being monitored.

"Hey, we're gonna get out of here. Hear me, Red? You're not gonna be here forever."

"Thanks, Sam. When you say it I almost..." She didn't finish her thought.

"Believe it," Sam told her.

* * *

It was at lights out, when coversation stopped and she lay down to sleep, when a sense of empty hopelessness threatened to consume her. She would close her eyes, wiggle as far back in her cot as she could get, and imagine she had arms around her, arms that were a seemingly impossible fusion of strength and gentleness. The arms she'd felt around her during the fight at the airport, during the battle in Sokovia. She'd remember his hand lightly, almost apologetically, resting on her arm when he told her she couldn't leave the compound, the many times they had touched during trainings. She remembered the times she'd touched his mind. He was so clear, level, calm. His mind was soothing. The memory of him was soothing.

She tried not to think about turning her power against him, the horrified look on his face when Clint pointed out she could overpower him, the hole in the floor she'd forced him through.

She tried not to think about that she would probably never see him again.


	2. Regrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vision rues the choices that have led to Wanda's imprisonment.

* * *

That wine-millet bends under its weight,  
That cooking-millet is in grain.  
I go on my way bowed down  
By the cares that choke my heart within.  
Those who know me  
Say, “It is because his heart is so sad.”  
Those who don’t know me  
Say, “What is he looking for?”  
Oh, Azure Heaven far away,  
What sort of men can they be?

~Anonymous, _Book of Songs _63, trans. Arthur Waley

* * *

"Intelligence sources have linked him to kidnappings of Middle Eastern mercenaries, Sudanese rebel soldiers, Chinese smugglers, an entire Salvadoran drug gang...some of the most dangerous people in the world. We don't know if he's holding them for ransom or trying to build his own army. It's likely he's been financing his operations through piracy, but solid intelligence is hard to come by in that part of the world."

"Why has the U.N. waited so long to do something about this guy?" Rhodes asked the holograms of the U.N. council.

"He hasn't threatened any recognized governments. He's been targeting criminals, so some people have written him off as a problem not worth solving. But now his forces have gotten big enough that we need a plan in place to deal with him."

"Do we know where his home base is?" Tony asked.

"We have a general idea. Analysts are going over satellite and cell tower data. As soon as we locate him, we want you ready to go in, though we haven't determined whether it will be just recon, apprehension, or elimination."

Vision stood up. "If you excuse me, I don't feel I have any expertise to contribute to this discussion." He walked out through the wall.

The door opened. Tony sprinted after him. "Vis, hold up."

He stopped and turned, waiting expectantly.

"What was that about? You don't just walk out of a meeting like that."

"You do it all the time," Vision pointed out.

"I know _I _do it, but _you _don't. You never have before."

"Was I wrong?" Vision asked. "Whether Ra'd Latif is a true threat is a question of human motivations, which I am far from the best judge of. Furthermore, it seems the question of whether and how to deal with him is entirely out of our hands."

Tony stared at him for a moment. "I understand why you're upset, and honestly I don't want to be in the same room as them right now either..."

Vision interrupted him. "Has there been any progress in the status of Sam and Wanda?"

He sighed. "I've got a team of lawyers still working on it, but with the Sokovia Accords, it's tricky. Sam might still be pursuaded to take the plea deal..."

"And Wanda?"

"She's a Sokovian citizen. Sokovia signed the Accords, and the Sokovian government hasn't made a move to challenge her imprisonment."

"The Sokovian government..." Vision stopped himself before saying something uncharitable. Instead, he said, "We must do more."

"There's nothing more we can do."

Vision looked off out the window. "I feel I've made a grave miscalculation in signing the Accords," he quietly confessed. "Ultron once called me naïve. He was right. I failed to take into account that the human desire to mete out punishment usually outpaces their desire to understand."

"You're angry," Tony noted with surprise.

"I don't believe I'm angry so much as disappointed."

Tony nodded. "In me."

"In everyone." He looked back to him. "You should return to the meeting, Mr. Stark. I have somewhere else to be."

"Where?"

"Anywhere but here."

* * *

Clint was trying to get Nate down for a nap—although Nate was too interested in watching the ceiling fan to close his sleepy eyes—when he heard a knock at the front door.

"I'll get it," Laura called. A moment later, she added in a confused voice, "Honey, I think it's for you."

He wondered who it could be. Carrying Nate in one arm, he went to the door. The distinctive red face he could see through the window was not high on the list of people he was expecting.

"Vision! What a surprise. Uh, come in."

Vision stepped inside, shyly. "Good to see you, Clint."

"This is my wife, Laura. Laura, this is...the Vision."

"Nice to...meet you," she said.

"And this must be Nathaniel," Vision said, looking at the one-year-old who was staring at him with wide eyes and mouth agape.

"Yeah. Our other kids are at a friend's house," Laura said.

"So, what brings you here? Is something wrong?"

"No. I'm sorry to drop by unannounced. I wanted to check up on you. I hope your house arrest hasn't been too onerous."

"It's a big step up from where I was staying before," Clint said, glancing down at Nate.

Vision nodded, then looked at the paper bag in his hand like he'd forgotten he had it. "I brought you a...peace offering, of sorts. It's a plant. I'm not sure if you'll like it, but I couldn't think of what else to bring. I would have brought a case of beer, but I'm not sure if you like beer, and I'm not technically old enough to buy it."

Clint chuckled at the joke. "Thanks." He took the bag, which contained a potted aloe vera. He put it on the counter.

"You want to have a seat, Vision?" Laura asked. "I get the feeling you and Clint have a lot to talk about."

"The truth is, I understand entirely if Clint doesn't wish to talk to me. The last time we saw each other, it was from different sides of a battle ground." He looked at him. "I came here to apologize. To ask for your forgiveness."

Clint sat on the couch and gestured Vision toward the chair. Vision took it. Laura sat beside Clint and took Nate.

"I had a lot of time to think at the Raft," Clint said. "I can't honestly say I'd do anything different if I had to do it again, because Cap needed us, and without Wanda we would have lost, but I do feel bad about how it went down."

"Clint, I was the one at fault. Signing the Accords as they were written was an error. Attempting to protect Wanda by keeping her secluded...was not something I had the right to do. Though I wish to point out that if she had not been involved in that conflict, I wouldn't have been either. I would not have abandoned her."

"Or you would have both been facing us from the other side."

At Vision's silence, Clint regretted saying that.

"Look, I saw what you did when Wanda was hurt. You left the fight to take care of her. Thank you for that." He didn't add that Vision taking himself out of play might have allowed Steve and Bucky to get away.

"How was she?" Vision asked quietly. "In the Raft. Was she in good spirits?"

Clint noticed Laura's eyebrows raise.

"As good as can be expected being locked up in a high-security prison. The guards keep their distance, the food...I've had worse. I didn't want to leave her there, but she wouldn't let me say no to the deal."

"No one could blame you for taking it." Vision looked at Nate. "You have your family."

"Would you like to hold him?" Laura asked.

Vision looked surprised by the question. "I don't know. Would it upset him?"

"He's not at the 'stranger danger' phase yet." She stood up and handed Nate toward Vision, who took him cautiously, like he was afraid he might break him.

Nate reached out and grabbed at Vision's face.

"He likes you," Laura said.

"I've never held a baby before. He is remarkable." Vision helped Nate stand on his leg, supporting him with one hand and holding out his other hand like a toy. Nate wrapped his little fingers around one of Vision's long red fingers. "Hello, Nathaniel."

"You're a natural," Laura remarked.

"Technically, I'm not," Vision said. He looked fondly at Nate. "Natural reproduction is a matter of randomness. Two people randomly combine half their genes to create something new and surprising. I was entirely designed. There was nothing random or natural about my creation."

"You sound kind of sad about that," Laura noted.

"I do sometimes feel...rather left out." He pressed a finger to the tip of Nate's nose. "Boop."

Nate laughed wildly. Clint and Laura smiled.

"Nathaniel Pietro Barton," Clint said. He looked at Laura. "I don't think I ever told you, there's a Sokovian custom after a death for the family to sit up with the body all night. Wanda was going to do it alone, but I insisted on staying with her. And so did Vision."

Laura looked at Vision. "Really?"

Clint continued. "And Vision was the one who bought a burial plot near their parents and made the funeral arrangements."

Laura looked even more impressed. "_Really?"_

"Well, I knew Pietro better than most," Vision answered. "I have Ultron's memories up to the point he uploaded his consciousness into my brain."

"That must be weird," Laura said.

"Incredibly. I have both Ultron's memories of trying to kill J.A.R.V.I.S. and J.A.R.V.I.S.'s memories of Ultron trying to kill him."

"Wow."

"I also have Ultron's memories of Pietro and Wanda. They were his only friends. I arranged the funeral for his sake as well as Wanda's. I know that must seem strange."

"You must have been just a few days old when that happened," Laura said. "Where did you get the money for the funeral?"

"Mr. Stark insisted on giving me back pay for my years of service as J.A.R.V.I.S. I told him I didn't need it, but he pointed out neither did he."

"Still, that was really thoughtful of Tony."

"Yes it was." Vision looked back down at Nate, who'd slid down to a sitting position and looked on the verge of falling asleep. "I should be going." He stood up and handed the baby back to Laura. "Thank you for allowing me to visit."

Clint stood to see him off. "Thanks for coming by. Just so you know, there are no hard feelings. Not on my part." He reached out his hand.

Vision took it. "Nor mine. Thank you."

"Feel free to stop by any time," Laura said. "We haven't had guests for a while."

"I may take you up on that. I have enjoyed this visit immensely."

Clint walked him to the door. "Could you leave the door closed when you leave? We're trying to keep the flies out."

"Of course." Vision phased through the door and flew away.

Laura smiled, knowing he'd arranged that demonstration for her benefit. "That's a neat trick. How does he do that?"

"Something about quantum physics. Apparently he can change his density. I don't know how it works. He went right through Scott during the fight at the airport."

"Cool." After a moment, she quietly asked, "Do you think Tony sent him?"

"No. He was here to ask about Wanda. That's what he came for."


	3. Freedom

* * *

It is dark in the Lost Lagoon,  
And gone are the depths of haunting blue,  
the grouping gulls, and the old canoe,  
The singing firs, and the dusk and—you,  
And gone is the golden moon.  


  
~Pauline Johnson, from “Lost Lagoon”

* * *

She woke to the sound of alarms in the middle of the night. She sat up and tried to see what was going on by the dim glow of emergency lights.

Someone passed outside her cell. It took her a moment to identify the dark silhouette as Steve Rogers.

She heard him break open Sam's cell, then they both broke into hers.

She struggled to her feet. "Steve!"

Sam ran to her side. "Told you we'd get out of here."

"Come on. Let's go," Steve said as he carefully tore a rip down the back of her straitjacket.

"Thank you."

They ran through the prison, through broken security doors and past unconscious guards, to the Quinjet.

* * *

Vision was sitting in his room reading a book when Tony peeked in, knocking on the open door.

"Mr. Stark?"

"I thought you'd like to know, Sam and Wanda escaped," Tony said.

Vision stood up slowly, scarcely daring to hope he'd heard right. "Sam and Wanda escaped? Are they safe?"

"Presumably. Cap broke into the prison, incapacitated the guards, and the three of them made a getaway in the Quinjet Cap stole. Ross wants us to look for them."

"Are we going to?"

Tony had a smug look on his face. "Yeah, I'll put it on my to-do list, right between proving the existence of Santa Claus and getting a new species of leech named after me."

"Thank you for informing me, Mr. Stark," Vision said.

"Like I said, I thought you'd like to know."

When Tony left, Vision returned his eyes to the words on the page, but couldn't focus on them.

Sam and Wanda were free. They were with Captain Rogers.

They were fugitives. They would be unable to return home, unable to reveal themselves openly. With this attack on the prison, any hope of a legal remedy to their status was lost.

They were free. They were safe.

Wanda was safe.

Wanda was lost.

* * *

"It's too much of a risk," Steve argued.

"It's my risk to take. If I'm caught, I won't know where you and Sam are, so I won't be able to tell them anything."

He took a breath. "We can't afford to lose you. It's down to the three of us. If you have a message for Vision, then send a message. Write a letter."

"You don't understand; I have to _see_ him. I have to _talk _to him," Wanda said.

"This is Vision we're talking about. He's going to do what he thinks is right even if it means locking you up again."

"You don't know him like I do."

"I've known him exactly as long as you have. I was standing right there beside you the day he was born."

Wanda sighed in frustration, and cast around her mind for some way to convince him. She sank to the floor, her back against the wall, and ran her hands over her face and through her hair.

Steve stooped down next to her, concerned by her agitation. He thought she was wrong, but was willing to hear her out.

"You know," Wanda said, "the HYDRA scientists were so excited when I developed telekinesis. People thought it wasn't possible. There had only been rumors of people who could do that. They studied me, trying to figure out how it worked. But I didn't know. I was a Sokovian street urchin; I never even finished high school. Their talk about quantum entanglement and string theory was way above my head. Can you imagine how terrifying it is to suddenly have these powers you don't understand and don't know how to control?"

"Yeah, I have a little bit of an idea what that's like," Steve said with a smile.

"Okay, point taken. But I was terrified. I didn't know what it was I was touching. I didn't understand the things I could see. I learned how to control it by trial and error. Lots and lots of error. It wasn't until I spent time with Vision, until I saw how his mind works, how different layers of consciousness occupy the same mind, clear tones that harmonize with each other...that I began to understand how the universe works, and what my powers are tapping into. He had a way of explaining the physics that made sense to me. He helps me balance. After my time in the Raft, I'm worried about using my powers again. My emotions are too unbalanced. I need to see Vision."

"Then let me go with you. If you're not in full control of your powers right now, you shouldn't face him alone."

"He won't hurt me," she insisted. "Please, Steve. This is my choice to make, my risk to take. If you won't drop me off in New York, I'll make my way there alone."

Steve stared at her for a long moment, then nodded. "Okay. I hope you're right."


	4. Red Thread

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wanda faces Vision for the first time since the escape.

* * *

The grass is thick, the house in ruin;  
The wind never stopped the flickering light;  
It must have been a firefly!

~Anonymous, _Wakan Roeism Shu _190, trans. J. Thomas Rimer, Jonathan Chavez, Jinishi Konishi, Ann Yonemura

* * *

It was shortly after midnight when the stolen Quinjet landed silently in a forest clearing a few miles from the Avenger Compound in upstate New York. The bay door opened and Wanda stepped down.

"We'll be back in five hours," Steve said. "Be here. Please."

"I will."

Sam watched her with a troubled frown. "Stay safe. Don't make me come after you," he added in a mock threat.

She smiled. "Don't worry. I'll be fine."

When she was a few steps into the forest, she turned back to watch the Quinjet lift off and quickly disappear in the night sky. She rolled her fingers, summoning a small red glow to light her way.

What she'd told Steve wasn't entirely a lie, it was just a little backward: she didn't need to see Vision because her emotions were unbalanced, her emotions were unbalanced because she needed to see Vision.

Was she in love? She wondered again. It wasn't like craving a food, like Sam had described. She felt physically ill with longing to see Vision.

But would he want to see her? In spite of the tenderness he showed her when she was injured during their battle, he might not have forgiven her for using her power against him when she left with Clint.

Vision wouldn't hate her, she told herself sternly. He didn't hate anyone. But that didn't stop the nervouseness roiling in her gut. What if she was wrong?

But she plowed forward through the dark woods toward the compound. She would see him, and accept whatever consequences that brought.

* * *

Not sleeping had its advantages and its disadvantages. The undisturbed solitude of the early morning hours was both.

Vision used to treasure the time he had for quiet reflection. But that was _before_. Before the Accords, the split, the battle, the classification of Steve, Sam, and Wanda as criminals.

He was no longer at peace with his own thoughts.

This wasn't the first time he'd phased into Wanda's old room in the dead of night. He wasn't certain what his primary motivation was: was it that he came to her abandoned room in an effort to feel some connection to her? Or was it a way of punishing himself, forcing himself to face what she had lost because he'd failed to protect her?

He looked at the artifacts of her life. There was her small collection of photographs, mostly of her and Pietro. There was her guitar, which had been a gift from Clint that she'd begun to teach herself to play. There was her ring collection, in a bowl on the dresser.

Some of those rings were her oldest possessions. Rings were small, portable adornments, suitable for her nomadic life. She'd told him once—after two glasses of wine—that at the orphanage where she and Pietro lived for a few years, they had been allowed no personal possessions. Nothing had been just _hers_. She'd made rings out of loose threads or her own hair, and hid them under her matress, only putting them on in the middle of the night out of fear that if anyone knew about them they'd be taken away. She'd said after she and Pietro ran away from the orphanage, for a few years she would keep any jewelry she found on the street, hording it like a magpie.

He picked up her rings, resting them in his palm. It saddened him to think she was without even this tiny pleasure.

He handled her rings carefully. Not that he was afraid he would break them, but that touching them felt oddly intrusive, like he was trespassing. But they made him feel closer to her.

He examined the rings one by one, ran his fingertips over them, remembering them on her hands.

He would probably never see her again, never touch her again.

He left her room and returned to his own. It was almost ironic that he had more possessions than she did. A shelf full of books, framed photographs, art, souvenirs. Perhaps it was his way of trying to be more human.

As he stood contemplating it, he detected a red flash from the corner of his eye, from out the window. He turned to look.

The woods beyond the compound grounds were dark, seemingly empty.

And then, deep in the tree line, there was another flash of red.

"Wanda?" he whispered.

It had been a small, brief flash, inconspicuous. It might have been a firefly.

He phased through the window and flew to the forest, then glided through the trees to the place he thought the light had come from.

The forest was quiet. He heard crickets, the breeze through the leaves, the hoot of an owl somewhere far off. No human soul.

The crickets sounded mournful.

"It must have been a firefly," he whispered to himself.

Then a quiet voice from behind him said, "Vision."

He turned, and there she was, illuminated only by the soft glow of his Mind Stone. For a moment, he doubted she was real, she looked so much like a ghost, or a fairy, or a dream.

"Wanda..." He glided to her.

"Hello," she said quietly.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his desire to protect her winning out over the impulse to wrap his arms around her. "If someone sees you, you could be in danger."

"You're someone, and you're seeing me," she pointed out.

"How did you know I wouldn't attempt to apprehend you?"

She slowly, deliberately, took both his hands in hers. "Vision, after everything I've done—everything: HYDRA, Ultron, causing the Hulk rampage, the explosion in Lagos, the fight in Germany, and most of all what I did to you... I'm dangerous, Vision. I know it, you know it, the world knows it. I trust you more than anyone; if you think I should be locked away, I won't fight it."

He looked at her hands, folded in his, and suddenly realized what she was doing. She needed to use her hands to direct her power. Her physical strength was no match for his. If he held her hands, he could render her helpless.

"My life is in your hands," she said.

The weight of that trust frightened him. He wanted to push it away. But at the same time, his hands were touching hers. Not just her rings, with their memory of her, but her own, dear hands.

He forced himself to release her hands and draw away, worried that if he held on any longer she would think he was actually considering it.

"Wanda, nothing you have done necessitates or justifies your imprisonment. Volunteering for HYDRA and helping Ultron were mistakes you've already paid for, far more than you deserved. The deaths in Lagos were an accident you are blameless for. In Germany you fought beside Captain Rogers to protect an innocent man, and, as you believed at the time, the safety of the world. I should have been fighting by your side. My support for the Accords was a miscalculation, and it should not have kept me from trusting Captain Rogers' judgment. And regardless of my beliefs, I was wrong to attempt to prevent your departure with Clint."

"No, I was wrong to go. Nothing could justify what I did to you. Clint said Steve needed our help, and I just...I thought it was the right thing to do, at the time." She bit her lip, and tears spilled down her cheeks, gleaming in the dim yellow light.

It pained him to see her in pain. He pulled her into his arms, holding her. A sob shook her body.

"Please don't cry," he begged her.

"I hurt you."

"You had no choice."

"I could have stayed. I _should_ have stayed. I should never have done that to you."

"You didn't harm me," he assured her.

"I violated you. I used my power to take control of yours and used it against you. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"It's alright," he whispered. His shoulder was wet from her tears. All he wanted in the world at the moment was for her to be happy again.

"How can you forgive me?" she asked.

He didn't know how to explain. His mind didn't work like a human mind. He didn't hold grudges, or even assign blame. He judged threats by the potential for harm. The mere fact that Wanda had chosen to come, that she regretted her actions, meant she did not present a potential harm to him. She was not a threat. But that wasn't all of it.

"There is no need for forgiveness. You did what you had to do."

For a minute or two she just sobbed, and he just held her.

"Everything's gone so wrong," she said into his shoulder. "Rhodes is hurt, Steve and Sam and I are fugitives, and this is probably the last time I'll ever see you."

Panic gripped him at that thought. "No." He hadn't meant to say that out loud, and he hadn't meant to suddenly clutch her closer. He had feared he'd never see her again since the moment he learned of their escape, but contemplating it now while he was actually with her, holding her, he couldn't countenance that possibility.

She took a few deep, ragged breaths before saying, "I'm sorry."

"I need a way to connect with you," he said, thinking it through. "I need to know if you're safe."

"There's no way. It's too dangerous. We can't risk communication, we can't risk staying in one place too long."

He ran his hand up and down her back, soothing her and giving himself time to think. "There may be a way. An experimental communication device Mr. Stark has in development, a two-way transmitter that operates by quantum entanglement. It would provide instantaneous, untraceable, untappable communication between two people anywhere in the world."

A change in her breathing signaled the hope that suggestion kindled in her. "You think you could steal a set?"

"I think I could build one. It will take time. You would need to return for it."

She drew away from his embrace and looked up at him. Her face was wet and puffy. "How much time?"

"Give me three weeks. Can you meet me back here three weeks from tonight?"

She nodded. "I'll try."

"I'll watch for you."


	5. Interrogation

* * *

O, Asakura!  
If within a hall of rough-hewn logs  
I am,  
If I rest there,  
Announcing of his name and  
Moving on - who’s that?

~Anonymous, "Asakura," from _Sanekata Shu_, trans. Thomas McAuley

* * *

Wanda was weary and subdued when she stepped onto the Quinjet.

"How did it go?" Sam asked her.

"Great," she said. "You can tell by I'm not arrested."

"You were able to meet with Vision?" asked Steve.

"Yes. He's not going to turn us in. I need to talk to you about it later, but right now I just want to sleep."

"Of course."

She strapped herself into one of the sleeping cots they'd set up in the Quinjet's storage room. She really was exhausted. She hadn't dared to rest her entire time on the ground. But she didn't expect she'd fall asleep soon; her mind was still too busy with her meeting with Vision.

She hadn't expected to break down crying like that, but seeing him had triggered a burst of guilt and regret she hadn't even known she'd been suppressing. He was the most good, most honest, most beautiful person she knew, and she'd never forgive himself for what she'd done to him. True, she'd done it to escape and help Steve, but the ends didn't justify the means. The fact he didn't blame her for it—hate her for it—just went to show how superhumanly good he was. She was embarrassed that she'd actually cried in front of him. But at the same time, his arms around her, protective and comforting...

She wasn't sorry she'd cried.

Warmed by the memory of his embrace, she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

* * *

Vision flew toward Clint and Laura's farmhouse. Their older children were in the front yard. As soon as they saw him, they ran inside.

"Mom! Mom! The Vision's here!"

Laura came out. "Vision, come on in. We weren't expecting you."

"I apologize for once again coming without calling ahead. I happened to be in the neighborhood."

It was far-fetched enough to be laughable, and Laura laughed. "You're always welcome. Clint's around here somewhere. Honey! Vision's here."

Nate was in a playpen in the living room. He was holding himself up by clinging to the bars.

Vision knelt down to be closer to the baby's eye level. "Hello, Nate. You're getting big. You're standing."

"He's also crawling," Laura said. "Very fast. And eating anything that will fit in his mouth. Cooper, Lila, do you know where your father is?"

"I think he's out back," Lila said.

"He's still in the garden?"

"No," Lila said.

"Yeah," Cooper said at the same moment.

Laura smiled apologetically. "I'll go find him. Vision, would you mind keeping an eye on Nate?"

"Of course not."

"Thanks. Cooper, Lila, don't pester our guest."

Vision lifted Nate into his arms, delighting at the baby's sudden burst of laughter. He found it unexpectedly moving that Clint had given Pietro's name to his son. It was as if a small part of Pietro survived. Vision didn't talk much about the memories he'd inherited from Ultron, and so he didn't talk about Pietro much, not even with Wanda. _Especially _not with Wanda, who hated Ultron more than anyone. Ultron had great admiration for Pietro and Wanda: they were humans who not only saw what was wrong with the world, but were willing to change themselves—to evolve—in order to correct it. While Vision didn't share Ultron's views, he had to admit Ultron's memories had affected the way he felt toward Pietro and Wanda. Though he did not condone their choice to risk their lives and sanity by volunteering for HYDRA's experiments, he accepted his inheritance of Ultron's admiration for their courage, resilience, and idealism in doing so.

Ultron had seen the twins as the children humanity deserved: better versions of themselves set to destroy and replace them. The difference between him and Ultron, perhaps the only difference, was that he saw the potential for a better world in every child. He contemplated that possibility as he played with Nate.

He noticed the two older children peering in through the door of the living room, staring at him.

"Hello," he said.

"Hello. Are you a robot?" Lila asked.

"Yes, basically," Vision answered.

"Can you really go through walls?" Cooper asked.

"Yes."

"How?"

"By shifting the atoms in my body around the atoms in other solid objects."

"Do you have feelings?" Lila asked.

"Yes. I have several feelings."

"How do you fly?" Cooper asked.

"I'm not completely sure. I've always been able to do it instinctively, but the mechanics of it are beyond any currently available model of physics."

"So it's magic?" Lila asked.

"It's proof that there are still discoveries to be made in physics," he replied.

"Who would win in a fight between you and Iron Man?" Cooper asked.

"I would. I'm impervious to most of his weapons, and I'm familiar with all of his strategies."

"Do you have any weaknesses?" Lila asked.

"Yes."

"What?"

"I don't think that's prudent information to share."

"We can keep a secret," Lila said.

"Yeah, we keep them all the time," Cooper added.

Vision gave them a dubious look. "If you want to know about my weaknesses, ask your father. He once managed to incapacitate me."

"Really?"

"Briefly."

"Why do you wear a cape?" Lila asked.

"Honestly, because I saw Thor wearing one and I thought it looked cool."

"We know Thor," she said.

"I didn't know robots knew words like 'cool'," Cooper said.

"Before I was a robot, I was Tony Stark's experimental A.I. program. He designed me to speak naturally, which means picking up on the way words are really used in normal conversation."

"Cool."

"We've met Tony," Lila said.

The back door opened, and Laura and Clint came in.

"Kids, what did I say about pestering Vision?"

"We weren't pestering him," Lila protested.

Vision stood up. "Your children have inquisitive minds. That's a good trait to develop."

Clint greeted him. "Nice to see you again. What brings you here?"

"A desire to keep connected with friends. I've lost too many lately."

"I know the feeling," Clint said.

"I hope I'm not interrupting your gardening."

"No, I was just..." He shrugged. "The great thing about gardening is it's slow. If you take a break, the garden's waiting for you when you get back."

"It sounds like a relaxing hobby."

"It's a way to get myself outside, since I'm not allowed to set foot beyond my yard."

"What kind of garden do you grow?"

"I've got a vegetable garden and a flower garden. Would you like to see them?"

"I would love to."

Laura took Nate from Vision, who followed Clint into the backyard.

"It hasn't been too bad having to stay home. Almost like retirement if you don't think about it too hard. I'm not allowed any target practice, so my aim's gonna be shit when I get through this."

"That must be frustrating. And I'm sure you're constantly concerned with being monitored."

Clint glanced at him from the corner of his eye. "I check the house for bugs whenever the Feds stop by."

"Have any of the rogue Avengers been in contact with you?" Vision asked quietly.

"No. They'd know better than to contact me. Why?"

"Wanda has been in touch with me."

He turned toward him suddenly, surprised. "What? When? Why?"

"A little over a week ago." The 'why' was harder to explain. "She was...upset by how we parted. Wanda and I are...were...are friends, in spite of my attempt to detain her at the compound. She wanted to make sure I was alright, and wanted me to know she is alright, and I thought you deserve to know that as well. I know you feel a certain protectiveness of her."

"She could have been caught," he whispered.

"But she wasn't. She's safe. As safe as she can be considering the circumstances. She is with Captain Rogers and Sam. They will protect each other."

Clint nodded, frowning. "Thank you for telling me."

"Is there any message you would like me to give her?" Vision asked.

"You have a way to contact her?"

"Possibly," Vision answered carefully.

Clint suddenly changed direction. He walked quickly to his barn.

Vision followed him, confused. "Clint, what is it?"

Inside the barn, Clint paced, then turned back to him. "So you're telling me Wanda contacted you?"

"Yes," he answered uncertainly.

"Did you tell anyone else? Tony? Rhodes?"

"I've told no one but you. I would never do anything to put her at risk."

"Did Steve and Sam know she contacted you?"

"I presume so," he said. "She didn't say as much, but she didn't indicate otherwise. Why does that matter?"

"Because this is important. Do you have a way to contact her again?"

Vision was getting increasingly nervous at the tone of Clint's questioning. Was he trying to incriminate him? If so, why? He'd already admitted to violating the terms of the Accords.

"Can you contact her?" Clint repeated. "Can you get a message to her?"

"Yes," he answered.

Clint turned away. "Will that work?"

Vision had the feeling Clint was no longer talking to him.

A figure emerged from a shadowed corner. Dark clad, hair dyed black. Vision recognized her from her movements.

"Natasha," he said.

"Vision," she greeted him. "I have to admit, I'm surprised. You're the last person I would have expected to violate the Accords. To be honest, I didn't think breaking the law was even in your programming."

"I don't see why that would surprise you. My programming, as you conceptualize it, is a combination of Ultron and J.A.R.V.I.S. You saw Ultron's regard for laws firsthand, and as for J.A.R.V.I.S., do you really believe Tony Stark _wouldn't_ have programmed his A.I. with the capacity to ignore laws?"

"He's got a point," Clint said.

Natasha didn't look convinced, though it was always hard to discern her true thoughts. "What about your equation? I thought you believed in the Accords."

"I believe it is certain disaster to put absolute power in anyone's hands, even our own. However, I did not realize one of the powers they would take away from us would be the ability to decide who is an enemy and who is a friend. When a law conflicts with a higher right, the law is wrong, and must be broken."

Natasha's lips sputtered into a smile. "I'm sold. So Wanda's with Steve, and you can get a message to them?"

"Possibly."

"I haven't been able to get in touch with them," she explained. "I've been trying to reach Steve since going off the grid, but most forms of communication are too risky. If he's learned anything from me, he's dumped his old cell phone, which would explain why I can't reach it. He hasn't responded to email. He was always pretty lax about checking his email anyway. And I have no idea where he is."

"And you wish to find them?" Vision asked.

"Steve, Sam, and Wanda are on the run from some of the most powerful organizations in the world." She shrugged. "They need me."

He nodded. It was true that the spy and former assassin would be a valuable asset to the rogue Avengers. Having her with them would greatly improve their chances of not getting caught. "Wanda and I made an arrangement to meet again in person."

"When? And where?"


	6. The Reunion

* * *

till his hat  
fades into a butterfly  
I yearned for him

~Chiyo-ni, trans. Patricia Donegan & Yoshie Ishibashi

* * *

Wanda once again made her way though the midnight woods. Unlike last time, the moon was out to help light the way. She was both nervous and excited to see Vision again, and sad that this really might be the last time.

The closer she got to the meeting point, the more nervous she became. Would he even be there? Had something gone wrong? Had their plan somehow leaked out and she was walking into an ambush?

Then she saw him up ahead, the Mind Stone shining like a star. Only a moment later, he saw her, and floated toward her through the trees. She reached for him, drawing him into a hug.

"Vision, it's so good to see you."

"You too." He drew back, and she saw something like worry or concern on his face. "Wanda..."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," he said. "Miss Romanoff is here."

Her first thought was that Natasha had been caught and was being kept at the Compound. "Where?"

The answer came from the shadows behind a nearby tree. "Here." She stepped forward, everything dark but her face, which looked ghostly in the white light of the moon. "Hi, Wanda. Sorry for hiding, but Vis thought it would be better to meet you alone first."

"Hello, Nat." She was a little apprehensive. She'd never gotten over a certain nervousness around Natasha, who was much less friendly and approachable than Steve, the other leader of the Avengers for as long as Wanda had been part of the team. And after the fight, she wasn't sure how Natasha would feel about her. Unlike Vision, she seemed like the kind of person who did hold grudges. "I'm sorry if I hurt you at the airport."

"Hey, nothing any of us did that day was personal."

Wanda glanced at Vision, thinking again of the way he'd cradled her when she was down. Had _that_ been personal?

"Thank you for letting Steve escape," she said.

"I let Steve escape, then Tony let me escape. Just goes to show we're still a team, no matter what our signatures on a piece of paper say." She walked up to Wanda and unexpectedly hugged her. "I've been worried about you."

"I've been worried about you, too. Steve had no idea where you went or what happened to you."

"I've been better off than you. I haven't been locked up in a prison in the middle of the ocean for weeks." She dropped the joking tone. "How are you doing? How are you handling what happened to you?"

"I'm fine," she answered. "At HYDRA I lived in a cell and went through painful and terrifying experiments for years. A couple of weeks in a straitjacket is nothing."

"They put you in a _straitjacket_?" Natasha asked in outrage.

"To keep me from using my power. And a shock collar in case the straitjacket wasn't enough."

She saw a look of shocked dismay cross Vision's face, and caught a flash of anger unlike anything she'd ever felt from him. He hadn't known. Tony hadn't told him.

"What are you doing here?" she asked Natasha to change the subject.

"Joining you," she said simply. "Where are Steve and Sam?"

"In the air. I'm going to meet up with them at two a.m."

"I'm coming with you."

Wanda nodded. "How did you find out I would be here?"

"I was hiding out with Clint and Laura when Vision stopped by."

Wanda looked to Vision. "You've been to see Clint?"

"Twice," he answered. "Once before you contacted me; I wanted to repair our friendship, and hoped I could learn how you and Sam were doing. Though it seems he declined to mention some of the more unpleasant conditions at the Raft. I saw him again after speaking with you. I wanted him to know you were safe. I'm sorry if that was a breach of your confidence."

"It's fine," she said. "I trust him."

"Vision was careful," Natasha said. "And you should see him with the kids. Especially Nate. That baby adores this giant red robot. I'm gonna miss those kids," she added somberly.

"We should go soon." She moved closer to Vision. "Steve only gave me two hours this time. He was worried."

"I'm just happy you came. I have something for you."

She expected it to be the communication device, but inside the small silk pouch he handed her she instead found her old photos of her and Pietro, and her collection of rings.

"I didn't dare take too much from your room, in case investigators look for anything missing, but I wanted you to have something that's yours, something to connect you to your past."

"Vision, this means so much to me." She threw her arms around him and pressed her lips to his cheek. She held him, reveling in his nearness, trying to memorize exactly how it felt to be held by Vision, in case she never had the chance again.

She couldn't help thinking about the way his hard, metallic body felt against her.

She hadn't meant to kiss him. She hadn't even consciously thought about it. Did he have feelings for her? He was an android; his mind and body worked entirely differently from a human's, so he might not even be capable of feeling for her what she was feeling for him. But she had noticed the way he'd sometimes moved around her, like he was hyper aware of the presence of her body. She'd felt that when she'd been in the kitchen with him while he tried to cook paprikash to cheer her up. And the way he'd look at her... If he were human, she'd have no doubt he was attracted to her.

"You said something about we should go soon?" Natasha said, and Wanda realized how long the embrace had lasted. She dropped her arms and stepped back.

"I'll be just a minute," she said to her, then looked back at Vision. "About the communication device..."

"I have it." He brought out a small, flat screen, about the size of a basic calculator. "Its battery is solar charged. I tried to make it simple and self-contained. Press this button on the side." He demonstrated, turning on a dull green light. He aimed the light on his hand, revealing it to be the projection of a qwerty keyboard. "You can type on any flat surface. What we type apprears on the screen, but it has very little memory, so as soon as a sentence leaves the screen, it will be gone with no way to recover it."

She smiled at the excitement in his voice. "And you have another one like this?"

"The signals are transmitted by crystals encased in a tiny chip inside this. The other chip I wired directly to my neural network. I implanted it in my head. What you type on this device will appear directly in my mind. No one will see it or have any indication it's there."

"Is that...painful? Or distracting?"

"Not at all. The electric charge that conveys the letters is miniscule, and the additional data is easily handled by my neural circuits. I've tested it."

She took the communication device from his hand. "Steve told me not to take this. He's afraid it could be used to track us."

"It can't. Read me if you don't believe me."

She smiled. "Vision, if I knew every thought in your head, I would trust you just as much as I already do. But Steve doesn't see it that way. He pointed out you were the one most in favor of the Accords."

"And I'm a robot, a computer program incapable of changing its mind."

"You know he doesn't think that," she said. "If he did, he wouldn't have let me come tonight." She left out that she had to plead and lie to convince him to let her come. "He just sees me and Sam as his team now, and he wants to avoid anything that might put us at risk."

Vision dropped his eyes. "So you won't take it?"

"He's not the boss of me," she replied, slipping it into the pouch with her rings and photographs. "He doesn't need to know about it."

"But if he finds it, he'll destroy it."

"He'd have to take it from me first," she said fiercely.

He took her hand. "Be safe, Wanda. That's the most important thing."

She didn't say anything. She felt there was nothing she could say that wouldn't risk tears. She gave his hand a squeeze, then reluctantly let his fingers slide out of hers as she left to join Natasha.

"Thank you, Vis," Natasha said to him.

"Goodbye," he called to them.

Wanda looked back more than once, her heart breaking at the sight of Vision standing in the moonlight, watching them go.

* * *

"This is the rendezvous point?" Natasha asked when Wanda came to a stop in a clearing.

"Yes." She checked the time. "They should be here within eleven minutes."

Wanda sat on the ground. Natasha joined her. She examined the younger woman from the corner of her eye, trying to decide the best way to approach what she wanted to say.

"Vision wasn't just talking about Cap back there, when he said people think of him as a robot. He was talking about me. Back at Clint's, I said something to him that I think upset him."

Wanda looked over at her. "You heard us talking?"

"I was standing like five feet away from you." She smiled teasingly. "You seemed to forget I was there for a minute."

"I'm sorry."

"It's fine. The thing is, it's sometimes hard for me to know what to make of Vision. There's never been anything like him. I know his mind works differently from a human mind, and it's hard to figure out exactly what's going on with him. But you've never had that problem. From the beginning, you gravitated toward him, you sat by him, you chatted with him, you teased him. I know you two were the newbies on the team, the rest of us already knew each other, so it makes sense you would bond over that. But it seemed like more than that. You always treated him like he was just one of the humans."

"You want to know why?"

"I want to know how. How was it so easy for you to see past him being an android from the very beginning?"

Wanda pulled her knees in, wrapping her arms around them. "You didn't see his very beginning. I did."

"Banner told me about his birth, after he rescued me from the cell in Sokovia. He was so worried about what I would say when he told me what he and Tony had done: brought to life the thing Ultron had made, the thing Steve and I had risked our lives to steal away from him in Seoul. He told me about Tony's plan to upload J.A.R.V.I.S. into the android, get it on our side against Ultron. When I asked him if it worked, he said 'It's complicated.' He meant Vision. Vision's complicated. I think I never appreciated exactly how complicated until tonight."

"I didn't just see him born, I saw him built. I watched him being formed in Dr. Cho's cradle," Wanda said quietly. "It was beautiful. I thought, in that form, no one could stand against Ultron. I could feel his mind begin, his thoughts begin to flow. And then in his mind, I saw Ultron's true plan. I was terrified. When you stole the cradle, I knew what Tony would try to do."

"Bruce told me about that too. You and Cap and your brother tried to stop them from bringing Vision to life."

Wanda nodded, her eyes distant. "He is complicated. Right after being born, Vision said he didn't know what he was. He knew he wasn't human, he wasn't simply Tony's computer program in a synthetic body. Part of him was as old as the universe, and part of him was brand new. I couldn't comprehend everything I felt from his mind. I sensed his familiarity when he looked at me. He knew who I was, remembered the things I'd done for Ultron. Even after I knew he was against Ultron I was afraid he would kill me, for helping Ultron or for trying to stop him from being born. I know that makes no sense, but the driving force in my life had been revenge for so long that it was the only motivation I really understood. I thought he might kill me, but instead he saved my life. I failed everyone, I put the world in danger, and he saved my life."

"What do you mean you failed everyone?" Natasha asked.

"I was supposed to be guarding the core. But then...I felt Pietro die. I felt his pain, the bullets. I felt his life end, and it just didn't matter to me anymore. The core, the world, nothing. All that mattered to me, once again, was revenge. I left my post and went looking for Ultron. I found him, and I killed him. He told me I'd die if I stayed there, and I didn't care. I thought that's what I wanted, that I just wanted the pain to stop. And then the city started falling, the ground fell from beneath my feet. At that second I realized I wasn't ready to die, that in spite of the pain and guilt, I didn't want to die yet, but I was going to anyway. I was sure of it. Then I felt arms around me, Vision's arms." She smiled. "He saved my life. And in the days after, he was there for me. Not just in the things he did for me, things like making funeral arrangements for Pietro and reminding me to eat. He offered me his mind."

"His mind?"

"When my pain and sadness felt unbearable, he let me read his mind. His mind is so pure, so bright, so peaceful, reading him is like a meditation. I wish everyone could see what I see when I look into him. It's beautiful."

Natasha wished she could see what Wanda was describing. She understood what it was like to have a tangled web of guilt on her soul, possibly even better than Wanda did. But maybe not; she had been molded and conditioned from childhood to be an assassin, killing people on orders without compunction. She had a lifetime of brainwashing to blame her sins on. Wanda and her brother had been in their late teens when they'd volunteered for HYDRA. Having had that choice to make, a choice that started her on the path that led to her own brother's death, might make Wanda's burden of guilt even heavier than her own.

Either way, they both had guilt to deal with, and at least Wanda had Vision to help her, his pure, innocent mind to gaze into.

That thought led to one that brought a smirk to Natasha's lips. "It looked back there like it's not just Vision's _mind_ you're interested in anymore."

The pale light of the moon couldn't hide Wanda's blush. After a minute, she said, "I didn't really answer your question about why Vis and I became friends so fast. I guess the simple answer is, I'm weird. Before this team, the closest things I had to friends had been evil HYDRA agents and a murderous robot. Even after I joined the team...you all tried to be welcoming, but you first knew me as an enemy. You knew what I was capable of, and whether you meant to be or not, you were all nervous around me because of that at first. You kept a certain distance. Vision didn't. He always treated me like I was just one of the humans."

Natasha looked at Wanda for a minute, contemplating everything she'd just revealed. "I'm sorry I made you feel like that."

"Not your fault. I'm sorry I attacked your mind in Johannesburg. I don't think I've ever officially apologized for that. I would have after Sokovia, but...I was dealing with a lot at the time, and it just never felt like the right time. I guess there are some things you do that are just so bad you feel like an apology will just make it worse, like it would almost be like...you're asking forgiveness for something that can never be forgiven."

"I know exactly what you mean," Natasha said. "I was an assassin. I murdered a lot of innocent people. I don't even know how many."

They fell silent for a few minutes, lost in their own thoughts and listening to the sounds of the night forest. They saw the approach of the Quinjet by the void it left in the stars.

"So, just out of curiosity," Natasha asked while she had the chance, "have you and Vision ever...?"

"No," Wanda answered with a sigh. "Unfortunately."

"How would that...work, exactly?"

"It would work," she stated.

The Quinjet landed in the clearing silently. Both women rose as the door opened.

Steve stepped out, staring. "Nat!"

"Hey, Cap." She greeted him with a hug.

"What are you doing here? How did you find us?"

"Long story," she answered. "The gist of it is, we can trust Vision. He's on our side."

"And you?" he asked.

Natasha smiled. She looked at Sam, who was walking up behind Steve. "I'm in. Us against the world. It's like D.C. all over again. Except this time we've got one more kick-ass woman on the team." She clasped Wanda by the shoulder.

Sam grinned. "I like our odds."


	7. Implications

* * *

At the sound of footsteps  
it divided in two--  
the shadow

~Anonymous, from _Haiku Humor, _trans. Stephen Addiss and Fumiko and Akira Yamamoto

* * *

It was Vision's first attempt at an abstract painting.

He'd only started painting a week ago. He'd always loved art, but he'd been hesitant to try his hand at it himself. It wasn't that he was afraid his paintings wouldn't be good; he was worried they wouldn't be _art. _What made something art was a question he had been unable to find an answer to, either through research or reason. Could a robot make art? If his paintings were bad, or too good, would it prove he was a robot?

That was why, when he'd decided to finally paint, he'd ordered the supplies in secret and told no one.

He'd started with landscapes, and had been pleased with them, though he enjoyed deciding what to paint and the process of creating the images—watching mountains and water, trees and clouds blossom from the strokes of his brush—more than the finished products. When he painted, it steadied his thoughts, kept away the doubts and regrets, gave him back his old sense of peace.

Some of the painting were real places he'd copied from memory, others imagined landscapes. He'd experimented with several different styles. The abstract painting was the next step of branching out.

He wasn't sure what he was supposed to be doing. He'd deliberately avoided any research on techniques. He wanted to see if he could _feel _what he wanted to do. He'd started with a few spatters of black, then added some red, some brown. He looked at the result for a long time, then at his color pallet. He began blending colors: green brushed with blue, orange tinted with pink. Instead of spatters, he added more deliberate lines, swirls.

He took a step back to examine the canvas. The color combinations were somewhat pleasant to look at, but was it art?

If Wanda were here, he would let her see it. He could trust her to tell him honestly if it was terrible.

He smiled, thinking of her. She'd sent him a message a few hours ago. They sent each other messages every few days, just to check in, just to say hello and that they were alright. Vision always waited for her to message him first before engaging, since her messages to him were completely hidden, but his to her could put her in danger if they came at a bad time.

Yesterday she'd written that she missed him.

Did she have feelings for him? He tried not to let himself hope for it. He was in love with her. He'd acknowledged that to himself shortly after the battle at the airport; it was the only explanation for the sickening horror that gripped him when she'd been injured, his focus on her to the exclusion of all else in the midst of battle, his nearly fatal distraction.

They'd said they were taking the rogue Avengers for medical treatment and processing. They'd lied. Vision had no idea that was the last time he would see her, Clint, Sam, and Scott Lang before they were shipped off to the secure prison, a prison designed to contain enhanced humans. Right when Vision realized he loved Wanda, he'd lost her.

He dabbed his paintbrush into a gray and a purple and added some strokes of it to the canvas.

He had her back, he reminded himself. This connection to her. Her words in his head weren't as much as he wanted, but they were _something_. Besides, he had no reason to believe she was romantically interested in him. He was an android; could a human woman even find him attractive?

But she had never given any indication that she found his appearance at all repulsive. She'd never shown any reluctance or hesitance to touch him. She hadn't even drawn away from physical contact with Ultron, and perhaps by comparison she saw him as more man than machine. Or was that wishful thinking on his part?

The question was academic. She was a fugitive, he was one of the last members of the official Avengers team. If the split hadn't happened, and they were both still living at the compound together, perhaps they could pursue something beyond friendship, but as it was, any face to face meeting was too great a risk.

There was a knock at the door. It was a bit late in the evening for a social call, which probably meant a mission.

"Who is it?" he asked.

"It's me," Rhodes replied.

He left his paints and opened the door. "Colonel, I wasn't expecting you. What's the matter?"

"Ross wants us... What's on your face?"

Vision lifted his hand to his cheeck, where a few spatters of paint had ended up.

"Is that paint?" Rhoded asked. He peeked past Vision into his room, seeing the easel. "I didn't know you painted."

"I haven't been doing it for long. It's something I'm trying out."

"May I see it?"

Rhodes was far from the first person he would want seeing his new hobby, but he didn't want to appear secretive or rude, so he stood aside and gestured him in.

He walked up to the painting. His fingers stroked his chin as his eyes drifted back and forth across the canvass. "This is good. I mean, it's no Jackson Pollock, but it's really...emotional. It's turbulent. Almost sad." He looked from the painting to Vision.

Before Rhodes could ask the question he seemed to be formulating, Vision asked, "What does General Ross want?"

Rhodes looked back at the painting. "For us to meet in the conference room. Tony's already there. Apparently there's been a Rogue Avenger sighting."

"There are Rogue Avenger sightings every day. There are websites devoted to them."

"Apparently he thinks this one's more credible."

They went to the conference room, where Tony was arguing with the holographic projection of Ross.

"Then we don't have time to argue about it. If it's them, we're the only ones who can bring them in."

"That's exactly what I'm talking about," Ross said. "You say 'bring them in' when at this point we should be talking 'take them down'."

"What is the situation?" Vision asked.

Ross turned to him. "Photos and videos of Sam Wilson and Wanda Maximoff have been posted online in the past hour from two different neighborhoods in Tokyo. The Tokyo chief of police refuses to risk any of his people apprehending them unless they, as he put it, 'pose an immediate danger'."

Tony spoke up. "But he doesn't want me to go in because he doesn't think I'd fight them."

"I called you when Rogers attacked the prison," Ross said. "You did nothing."

"The prison was supposed to be impenetrable. How was I supposed to know the attack would succeed?"

"What would they be doing in Tokyo?" Rhodes wondered.

"Does it matter?" Ross replied.

Vision took a step forward. "If you do not wish for Mr. Stark to go, what are you suggesting?"

"For us to advise a military team to engage with them," Tony answered for him. "Capture or kill."

Fear sent Vision's systems into overdrive, but he didn't let it show in his voice. "That would not be advisable. If both Mr. Wilson and Miss Maximoff are in Tokyo, it is likely Captain Rogers is as well. An attack on the three of them could well prove fatal for the soldiers you send. Moreover, in such a densely populated city, the danger of collateral damage is too great. Might I suggest an alternate plan?"

"If it's a good one," Ross answered.

"Send me. Tokyo has millions of people and miles of subway tunnels. Having someone who can fly and phase into the ground will provide the best chance of finding them."

"And you think you could take them down yourself?" Ross asked.

"No. Obviously not. But in the event I locate one of the fugitives I will engage with them. I am not willing to kill my former teammates, and they know that. I will allow them to escape, but in the course of the altercation I will attach a tracking device which will, if all goes well, allow you to locate and apprehend all three of them."

He could feel the odd looks Tony and Rhodes were giving him.

"You'd be willing to help arrest your former teammates?" Ross asked.

"Arrest to bring to a fair trial, not harm. When I signed the Sokovia Accords, I agreed to submit to the judgments of the international community in regards to what is in the best interest of global security. They did not. Therefore, while their continued freedom is not in the interest of global security, their legal status requires clarification."

"You said yourself they're dangerous. Legalities are secondary to global security."

"I'm aware of that," Vision replied.

"So you agree it's best to bring them in."

"As safely as possible, avoiding harm to civilians. Which is, after all, our entire purpose."

Ross nodded. "Good to see someone there can see reason. How fast can you get to Tokyo?"

"That depends on whether Mr. Stark will allow me access to a Quinjet," Vision answered.

"Stark, give the Vision a Quinjet," Ross said. "Consider that an order. Vision, I'll send you updated information as it comes in." The holographic Ross disappeared.

After a moment, Tony asked, "Vision, did you just lie to Ross?"

"You and I both know that if Sam and Wanda were in Tokyo, they will be gone by the time I arrive. Going myself simply prevents the possibility of injury to the innocent military force Ross would otherwise send."

"You still remember how to fly a Quinjet?" he asked.

"Yes."

* * *

Vision wrestled with the question of whether or not to send a message to Wanda. If she was in Tokyo, he should warn her that she'd been recognized. But if she was with Sam and Steve, sending a message could reveal their secret communication to them. Besides, his course of action would be the same whether she was there or not: make sure he was seen vigilantly searching the city.

It was mid afternoon local time when Vision arrived in Tokyo. He landed the Quinjet at Haneda Airport, then flew off to search the city from above. Sam had been sighted in the Shibuya area, and that was where he went first, floating over streets crowded with pedestrians, ignoring the hundreds of cell phones recording his every move.

He floated above buildings, scanning the crowds.

Once he thought he'd spent enough time searching one area, he moved on to the next. He made his way toward Ueno, halfway across the city, where the sightings of Wanda had been centered.

A message from Wanda popped into his head.

_You're in _ _Tokyo?_

_Yes, _he answered. _I heard you and Sam were here_._ Are you safe?_

_There are some things more important than being safe._

_What is more important than your safety?_

_Being free._

_Your freedom is exactly what I'm trying to preserve.  
_

_If I live in a cage to keep other people from finding me and putting me in another cage, it's just doing their work for them._

_Is this about my attempt to detain you at the compound after the Accords?_

_No. I'm just trying to tease you. You can't tell because you can't see my face and hear my voice. Come find me._

His earlier resolve about face-to-face meetings being too risky crumbled in an instant. _Where are you?_

_There's a highrise building going up a couple of blocks south of Asakusa Station, right next to Sumida River. There's a big crane right next to it. Do you see it?  
_

He rose higher into the air and saw the partially constructed building she was describing.

_I see it._

_I'm on the seventh floor. East side._

He flew to it. The construction zone was deserted; apparently all the workers had already left for the day. Some of the floors and inner walls were complete, but the outer walls and upper floors hadn't been finished. He flew down and phased through the ground so no one would see him enter the building. He flew up through an elevator shaft.

It wasn't the safest place for Wanda to be, but after what she'd just said about safety and freedom, she was clearly not in the mood for a lecture. Besides, it might have been the best place in Tokyo for them to meet without a risk of being seen together.

He felt her. She'd sent a thought into his head, an impulse to phase through the wall. He followed it.

Wanda was standing on the other side, mere feet from him. They embraced for a long moment.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"Waiting for you," she laughed.

"I mean here in Tokyo?"

"Nat wanted to get some assets she had in a safe deposit box at a bank here. She wanted us nearby in case she was recognized and had to fight her way out. But she wasn't recognized, she got her things without a hitch, and we all split up to make our way to the rendezvous, since we're less likely to be recognized apart than as a group. Then I heard a lot of people on the street saying your name. What are you doing here?"

"You and Sam were recognized. The Tokyo police refused to risk an altercation with you, so General Ross wanted to send a military strike force. I convinced him to send me instead."

Wanda smiled. She sat down on the unfinished floor, tugging Vision down beside her by the hand. "How did you convince Ross to do that?"

He settled next to her. She didn't let go of his hand. "I told him I planned to pretend to engage one of you and plant a tracking device. I may have implied I believe apprehending the rogue Avengers to be the most logical course of action."

"So basically you convinced Ross to trust you because you're a robot?"

"It seems to me that many humans ascribe attributes to me they have absolutely no basis for believing."

"Well, you have to understand, humans have been trying to imagine what an articifial intelligent lifeform would be like for years. They just kind of assume that you're like what they imagined."

"Which can be frustrating, but on the other hand, it comes in handy for fooling bureaucrats," he joked.

She laughed and gave his arm a playful shove. A moment later, she said, "This view is nice."

The metal pillars in front of them framed a view of the Sumida River below, and beyond that the soaring edifice of the Tokyo SkyTree, glowing with a soft orange light from the fading sunset.

"It is," he agreed.

She was holding his hand still, holding it between their legs. The back of his hand was pressed against her thigh, and her fingertips were brushing his. She had to know what she was doing. She had to be aware no one touched like this without romantic intentions.

She had kissed him on the cheek last time they saw each other. It would be only fair for him to kiss her this time, right?

He leaned over quickly and kissed her cheek before he could change his mind.

But this was different. When she kissed him, it had been an impulsive action, a quick "thank you" for his small gesture of consideration. This was not impulsive; it was deliberate, committed for no reason other than that he wanted to kiss her, wanted to know what it would feel like to touch his lips to her skin. What had he done?

But she didn't seem to mind. She closed her eyes, tilting her head back, and held his hand more tightly, lifting it to her stomach.

He kissed her cheek again, letting his lips rest there for a few seconds. Then he kissed her temple, her forehead. Her eyes were still closed, her lips curved into a soft smile, her breathing was growing heavier.

When he paused, she cracked her eyes open. She shifted to face him and kissed his cheek, then his forehead, his eyebrow, his other cheek.

His hand rose to cup the back of her head. He slowly turned his head until he caught her lips with his.

"Mmm." The moan of pleasure came from deep in Wanda's throat.

He ended the kiss, resting his forehead on hers and feeling the brush of her breath across his lips.

She tilted her head. Her lips flickered against his for a moment before pressing in hard. He kissed her back with equal passion.

His fears and insecurities had been unfounded. Anything he'd planned to say was unnecessary. Their feelings needed no explanations, no excuses, no apologies, no promises. Their affections and desires required no communication beyond the touch of their lips, the caresses of their hands. Their lips and tongues moved expressively, though wordlessly.

At some point they'd sunk down to lie on the floor, Wanda partially on top of Vision, her hand wandering over his torso as her lips explored his lips, face, and neck.

They were interrupted by an insistent vibration from the pocket of Wanda's jacket. She untanged herself from him and pulled a phone out.

"It's Steve. Oh God, I'm late!" She answered the call. "Hey...Yes, I'm fine...I know, I'm sorry...I'm still in Tokyo...Yeah, I heard Vision was spotted. I thought they might be looking for us, so I've been laying low... I wasn't in a great place to call... I know I should have texted... I'm on my way now. I'll be there soon." She hung up.

A quick system check revealed to Vision that they had been together for 49 minutes. The contrite expression on Wanda's face indicated she had also lost track of time.

"I have to go," she said.

"I know."

She kissed him again, quickly but deeply, then backed away. She lifted his hand to her lips before letting it go and jumping backward off the flooring.

He watched her descend through the unfinished building, her hands glowing red as she used her power to slow her fall and dodge around crossbeams and piping. She landed on the ground far below, then disappeared into the dark.

Vision lay back down and closed his eyes. He could still feel warmth everywhere her hands had touched. He clung to the memory of her lips on his. He reveled in the feelings and the fact of what had just happened, and didn't let himself dwell on the thought that it might never happen again.


	8. Secrets

With fruit and flowers the board is decked,  
The wine and laughter flow;  
I’ll not complain—could one expect  
So dull a world to know?

You look across the fruit and flowers,  
My glance your glances find.—  
It is our secret, only ours,  
Since all the world is blind.

Amy Levy, “At a Dinner Party," from _Love Speaks Its Name, _ed. J.D. McClatchy

* * *

"Knock knock," Tony said out loud from Vision's door.

"Come in."

Tony entered. He walked up next to Vision, looking at the painting he was working on. Vision had started a new abstract painting as soon as he got back from Tokyo; the one he'd been working on before didn't suit his new mood. His new painting had brighter colors and larger, almost exultant brushstrokes.

"Rhodey told me you picked up a new hobby," Tony said.

"I find it relaxing."

"Yeah, I get that." He dropped the pretext and moved on to what he'd come to talk about. "Ross isn't happy."

"The mission always had a high probability of failure. If he can't accept that, he needs to adjust his expectations."

"Save it. Your transponder was offline for two hours."

Vision turned away from his painting to face Tony. He tried to keep his expression neutral. "You were tracking me?" The accusation in his voice was barely detectable, but it was there.

"I thought it was just a glitch at the time, but when I checked the mission logs after you got back, there was a record of a search pattern for that same two hours. You hacked the logs."

"May I ask why you were tracking my movements at six in the morning?"

"Don't turn this around on me," Tony said, quietly but tersely. "Do you think I don't worry about you?"

"There's no reason that you should," he replied. "We both knew there wasn't a realistic chance that I would encounter Captain Rogers or the others."

"Steve doesn't worry me. He and Sam couldn't hurt you. It was just Wanda I was worried about. If she thought you were close to finding them, she could take you down. I couldn't stop thinking about it after you left. I knew there wasn't much of a chance you'd actually find them, but if you did..."

He had been legitimately concerned, Vision could tell. He was moved, though a little offended on Wanda's behalf. "I don't believe Wanda would harm me. I believe that the last time we saw each other, we came to an understanding."

"You mean at the airport, when she went down?"

Vision hoped his silence would be taken as confirmation.

"What did she say?" Tony asked.

"Simply that she was sorry."

"You might want to not take that at face value. People say 'sorry' a lot. We usually don't really mean it."

"She meant it."

Tony looked at him for a moment. "You know you can tell me anything, right?" he asked. "With our list of allies getting so small, I need us to be clear on that."

"I trust you fully, Tony."

"Good. What really happened in Tokyo?"

Vision was tempted to tell him. He wanted to tell him. He wanted to tell _someone_. He wanted to tell the world. But he couldn't, because Wanda was a fugitive, and he was violating the Sokovia Accords by seeing her without arresting her, and if he told Tony, then Tony would be a criminal for not arresting him.

"They were still in the city when I arrived. I trailed them, but I did not wish to reveal their movements, and so I switched off my transponder. Ms. Romanoff was with them." He added that nugget of truth he knew would interest Tony to partly make up for the lie.

"Did you talk to them?"

"No. I don't believe they were aware I had located them."

Tony nodded. "I don't think Ross is going to question the logs. Honestly, I don't think he'll even look at them. But you need to be careful."

"I was."

"Don't do it again. Please."

* * *

Steve and Sam were at the controls of the Quinjet. Natasha was asleep. Wanda was supposed to also be asleep. Instead, she was hiding under covers in her cot, holding the small communication device Vision had given her. She knew she shouldn't risk using it here, but she couldn't stop thinking about Vision.

She wasn't sure she'd meant for what happened in Tokyo to happen. It was true she'd thought about kissing Vision—a lot—but she had known it would be a bad idea. With their lives, the danger it would put Vision in, the emotional pain of their separation, of course doing anything to up the stakes was a bad idea.

She'd wanted to do it anyway

She'd thought about doing it anyway.

And she wasn't sorry. God help her, she wasn't sorry at all.

She projected the keyboard and began to type. _Thank you for looking for me._

His reply came in seconds, as usual. _Thank you for letting me find you. I'm sorry I made you late for your rendezvous with the others._

_Don't be sorry_, she wrote. _Please don't be sorry._

His response took a few worrying seconds longer than usual. _I'm sorry that didn't happen a long time ago, when we were together at the compound. It should have._

_It was my fault it didn't_, she replied. _I'm not always very good at expressing my feelings._

_I think you made your feelings quite clear. I hope that we both did._

His words made her heart beat faster and brought a smile to her lips. _I can't wait to see you again_, she typed. And then sadness crept into her happiness at the thought that she had no idea when that could happen. Or if.

He was probably thinking along the same lines. It took him a moment to respond. _I look forward to it._

_What did Ross say?_

_He was disappointed my plan failed, but understanding. Tony may suspect._

_I'm not worried about Tony. I know he wouldn't do anything to put you in danger._

_Is Steve suspicious?_ Vision asked.

_I don't know. I think he was mostly just worried about me. But I should be going._

_Stay safe, Wanda._

_You too, Vision. Goodnight._

_Goodnight._

She reluctantly tucked the communication device away. There were so many things she wanted to say to Vision, but they were things she wanted to say in person, looking into his eyes to see his reaction. It was harder now, now that she knew he felt the same way about her. Now that she knew what it felt like to kiss him. She wasn't sure how long they could go on like this.

What had she done?


	9. Snowbound

To-day there have been lovely things  
I never saw before;  
Sunlight through a jar of marmalade;  
A blue gate;  
A rainbow  
In soapsuds on dishwater;  
Candlelight on butter;  
The crinkled smile of a little girl  
Who had new shoes with tassels;  
A chickadee on a thorn-apple;  
Empurpled mud under a willow,  
Where white geese slept;  
White ruffled curtains sifting moonlight  
On the scrubbed kitchen floor;  
The underside of a white-oak leaf;  
Ruts in a road at sunset;  
An egg yolk in a blue bowl.

My love kissed my eyes last night.

~May Thielgaard Watts, "Vision"

* * *

The stolen Quinjet was the latest model. Tony had designed it with solar receptors covering the wings and top of the fuselage. At low speed, at high altitude, with direct sunlight, the solar energy was enough to keep the Quinjet airborn. They could theoretically stay up for days at a time.

In practice, they had food and water to worry about, and their sanity to preserve. They had found they could be in the air about a day and a half before the little stealth jet started feeling too small for the four of them. It was Natasha, with her typical no-nonsense realism, who usually made the call that it was time to find a place on the ground to lay low for a while. Fortunately, she also knew a long list of such places.

This time it was a remote campground in central Ontario, with six cabins in two rows next to a small lake. The road in was currently under several feet of snow, so there was no chance of anyone stumbling on the rogue Avengers.

"Not exactly the Ritz, but it will be a nice quiet break for a few days. Until our food runs out, anyway," Natasha said.

"Think the food will give out before the firewood?" Sam asked.

"Depends on how long you can stand the cold," she replied.

"I like the cold," he said.

"Don't try to be macho. This weather can kill us in minutes. Maybe not Steve."

As if to punctuate her point, Steve emerged from the Quinjet without a coat, carrying a load of firewood.

Wanda laughed. She levitated a stack of firewood toward the cabin she'd chosen for her own. It was just one room with a few bunkbeds and one window, but it had its own fireplace for light and heat, and a bar on the door for privacy.

She would have it all to herself. Or maybe not, if she was lucky.

She opened the window and created a small whirlwind to clear out the dust and cobwebs, then she sat on a bed, the bottom bunk nearest the fireplace. The mattress springs were squeaky, but otherwise it was fine.

She locked the door and took out her communicator. She had memorized the coordinates of the Quinjet after they landed. She sent them to Vision. _We will be here a few days, _she typed. _Some __cabins in the middle of nowhere. No one would see you at night. Come if you can.  
_

The reply was almost instantaneous. _I will.  
_

* * *

Wanda kept the fire going long after dark. The others were sleeping. She didn't think she could sleep if she tried. So instead she watched the fire.

A shift in the air was the first indication he was there. Her mind reached out and felt him. She rose and turned.

There he was, floating down from the window, his cape rippling behind him.

"You came."

She reached toward him with one hand, which he took as he landed in front of her.

"Wanda."

She meant to give him just a quick kiss hello, but once her lips were on his again they didn't want to leave. It was a long moment later that she pulled away and just looked at him. There had been so many things she'd wanted to say to him, to talk to him about. She'd made a list in her head. That list was blank now.

"I missed you," he whispered, gazing at her with a laser-like intensity that made her feel like her insides were melting.

"I missed you too," she managed to say. She lifted her hand to his face. Her fingertips ran lightly up and down his cheek, then over his lips. What had she meant to say? "You're so beautiful," was all she could come up with.

"So are you, Wanda."

"Not like you are," she said, thinking of his shimmering essense, his purity and goodness, and the contrast to her own past crimes and tainted psyche.

He was still fixing her with that penatrating stare, simultaneously full of discernment and adoration. "No, not like me. You're beautiful in different ways. Your own ways." He moved forward, placed a soft kiss on her forehead, and enfolded her in his arms.

She pressed her face into the crook of his neck and soaked in the comfort of just being with him. She needed it.

But once she had what she needed, her body reminded her what it wanted. Her arms tightened around him, pressing herself against him. She felt as though she couldn't hold him close enough.

"Vision, I desire you," she breathed.

He kissed her hair, her cheek, and the corner of her mouth before whispering, "I want you too."

She slid away from him, took both his hands, and walked backward, tugging him toward the bed. She lay down, and he settled in beside her. For a minute they just kissed, then hands and arms got involved. Wanda rolled over, perching over him. She looked down at him for a moment. Maybe they shouldn't be moving this quickly, but there was no telling when they would have a chance to see each other again, and she wanted him _so much_.

But was this really what Vision wanted?

"What's wrong?" he asked her, sounding worried.

"May I read you?"

"Of course."

She lifted her hand above his forehead. Her fingers plucked at the air until her powers caughts the strings of the ether, the threads of mind that connected all things in the universe. She linked her mind to his.

She felt first the layers of his consciousness, the constant glow that was _him_, his radiant kindness, equanimity, curiosity, intellect, his love for all life, the mysterious depths of his ancient aspects that neither she nor he could comprehend. His emotions were overtones added to that. She felt his strong admiration for her, his pleasure in her company. There was also fear for the danger of her situation, sorrow for their separation, sympathy for her pain. She also found lust, but even this was pure, clean, undemanding; unmixed with the guilt, self-loathing, jealousy, or possessiveness that poisoned lust for so many people. He openly accepted it as natural, welcomed it as human, so that simply the desire for her was a pleasure in itself, whether it was fulfilled or not. It was what lust was supposed to be.

He enjoyed her looking in his head. She'd always felt that. He enjoyed being seen, being known, being understood. He never attempted to hide anything from her.

She slowly let go of the connection, strand by strand, and looked in his eyes again, and saw a hunger there, a longing that mirrored her own.

She trailed her fingers across his chest. "I would like to see you like you were when I first saw you, when you first came out of the Cradle."

A moment later, his clothes were gone, and her fingertips were touching his bare skin.

What she'd told Natasha that night in the woods was true: Wanda had been terrified when she saw Vision burst out of the Cradle. But terror wasn't all she'd felt at the sight of him. There had also been awe, fascination, and, yes, attraction. She had kept glancing at him, watching him, trying to wrap her head around the _otherness_ eminating from him, trying to figure out what exactly it was that had been born that night.

He interrupted her reflections. "Wanda, you know...I've never done this before."

She drew her hand away. "I know."

"But you have?"

"A few times. Does that...bother you?"

"No, of course not. It's just...I apologize if I'm not very good at it."

She smiled gently, relieved. "Don't worry about it. It's different with everyone. You just have to test things out, see what you both like. That's kind of what a relationship is, I think: two people with two different lives, two different sets of needs and goals, trying to figure out if they work together."

He smiled. His smile was tentative and shy. "Relationship?"

"That's what we have, right? If...that's what you want it to be."

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him, kissing her passionately. He broke the kiss for just long enough to whisper, "Absolutely."

* * *

Wanda woke up slowly, her awareness beginning with the warmth and comfort surrounding her, then a sense of satisfaction and contentment beyond anything she could remember feeling before, then the scents of wood and the dusty mattress, then the light of morning on her eyelids. Vision's arms were around her waist, his bare chest against her bare back. He was so warm...

Which was weird. He was usually around room temperature. Right now he felt like a human with a high fever.

She pulled his arms closer around her. "Vision, you're hot," she noted.

"Thank you."

She chuckled. "You know what I mean."

His voice was amused when he explained, "With how cold it is, I thought you might be more comfortable if I raised my internal temperature."

"You really are the perfect man."

"Well, that is what I was designed to be," he reminded her, and though his tone was jocular, she could sense his discomfort at the characterization. She made a mental note to never call him perfect again, even if she believed it.

She opened her eyes and rolled over to face him. The air was cold where it snuck under the shifting covers to touch her skin.

That's when she realized how bright it was. She frowned. "Vis, what time is it?"

He closed his eyes for a moment. "Ten fourteen a.m.," he reported.

She bit her lip and looked worriedly at the window. The others would all be awake. Steve would have been awake for hours. The window faced the lake, and she'd deliberately chosen a cabin at the edge of the campground, but anyone could have walked by the window, peeked in, and seen Vision in her bed.

She had a moment of panic before reassuring herself Steve and Sam wouldn't have violated her privacy by looking in the window. Natasha might have. If they'd been worried by how late Wanda was sleeping, they might have sent her to check on her. But she had a feeling if Natasha had looked, she would have strategically chosen not to see.

Would it really be so bad if the others found out? What would they do, kick her out? They were on the run together, they relied on each other to survive. They would forgive her.

But if Steve found out she had gone behind his back, secretly given out their location to someone officially tasked with finding and arresting them, he would never fully trust her again. She couldn't let them find out like this.

"Are you alright, Wanda? You look troubled. I hope..."

She turned her eyes to his. She waited for him to finish his thought.

"I hope you don't have second thoughts about last night," he said.

"No." She smiled reassuringly. "Last night was wonderful. _This _is wonderful. But I should really get up. The others are going to be wondering where I am."

He kissed her forehead. "Stay in bed a little longer. I'll make a fire."

He phased through the quilts. She turned to watch him as his clothes reappeared on his body. He arranged wood in the fireplace and ignited the kindling with a narrow beam of energy from his forehead. He found her clothes for the day, and held them close to warm them before slipping them under the covers to her.

Once dressed, she crawled out of bed and joined him next the fireplace.

There was a knock on the door. It was Sam. "Wanda, want breakfast? Steve made scrambled eggs."

"Yeah. I'll be there in a few minutes." She watched the door for a moment until she sensed his presence fade.

When she looked at Vision there was sadness in his eyes.

"I need to be going. If I'm gone too long, my absence will be noticed."

She nodded, then hugged him. "We'll see each other again."

He pressed his lips to hers, then nodded. "We will." But the sadness tinging his voice reflected her own doubts.

She left her cabin a few minutes later and joined the others in Steve's cabin. She didn't see Vision leave, but as the distance between them grew, she felt it.


	10. Public Face

Who has not seen their lover  
Walking at ease,  
Walking like any other  
A pavement under the trees,  
Not singular, apart,  
But footed, featured, dressed  
Approaching like the rest  
In the same dapple of summer caught;  
Who has not suddenly thought  
With swift surprise:  
There walks in cool disguise,  
There comes, my heart.

~Frances Cornford, "The Avenue"

* * *

No one looked at him twice as he walked into the bar.

He had been to this bar before. He'd come here with Rhodes, Natasha, and Sam once, back before the split.

There was a framed photograph on the wall of the Avengers, with a note handwritten in silver ink claiming this to be the "Favorite bar of the Avengers."

He felt acutely nervous as he sat down.

"What will you have?" the bartender asked.

"Just water for now. I'll be meeting up with some friends later."

"Great."

She got him a glass of water. He examined it, watching droplets of condensation form, looking at the unfamiliar color of his hand around the glass.

He'd been practicing this for weeks. Since he could alter his body to create clothing in different colors and textures, he thought he might be able to counterfeit human skin and hair. It had taken a lot of experimentation and practice, and tonight was the first time he'd felt confident enough in the disguise to go out in public.

He wasn't just disguising himself as human to make it easier to see Wanda. There had been several missions he hadn't gone on because his presence would endanger the mission by drawing too much attention, including the mission in Lagos that had resulted in the call for the Sokovia Accords. If he had been on that mission, maybe it would have gone differently. Maybe the Avengers would still be together.

Tony and Pepper walked in. Vision had overheard Tony on the phone earlier that day arranging to meet here for a date night. They sat down at the bar not far from him.

The bartender immediately went to them. "Welcome back, Mr. Stark. And you must be Pepper Potts. I'm a big fan. What can I get for you?"

"Can I take a look at your cocktail list?" Pepper asked.

"Of course."

"Can I get the darkest beer you've got on tap?" Tony asked. "Put it on my tab."

Pepper opened the drink menu. "But like I was saying to the Mumbai office, it's the law of unintended consequences. And yeah, you can never plan for every single unexpected thing that comes up, but it doesn't hurt anyone to sit down for a couple of hours and brainstorm things that could possibly go sideways."

"I completely agree. I've learned that the hard way," Tony said.

"Right? Who was it who said humans are unique in the animal kingdom for their ability to learn from other people's mistakes and their unwillingness to do so?"

"I don't know. I've never heard that before."

"I'm pretty sure it was a famous author. Excuse me? When you get a moment could I get a grasshopper?" she said to the bartender.

Vision imagined what it would be like to go out on a date with Wanda, to be out in public together, to just chat without worrying about being seen or overheard.

Pepper continued her line of thought. "Anyway. And you can't just expect to keep anything a secret anymore. That can't be your business strategy."

"True."

"Well, in your case you sometimes go too far the other way. Maybe we just need some new terms for scandals. Like, for different gradations of scandal. There's 'The founder of the company said something rude about unions in a 1940s newspaper'-level scandal all the way to 'The head of the company created the current outbreak of sentient killer robots'-level scandal."

"Are we still talking about the Branson thing?" he asked.

Vision tried to think of a way to walk over and interrupt them without causing a scene. He was still working on it a few minutes later, when Pepper suggested Mexican food and they headed out the door.

He left a tip next to the full glass of water and hurried out after them.

Out in the parking lot, Tony noticed him and stopped. He subtly fidgeted with his watch as Vision walked up to them.

"Can I help you?"

"Yes," he said. "I mean, you already have, but yes."

Pepper's eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. "Jar...Vision?"

He phased back to his default look. "I'm sorry for the deception. I wanted to test how good my disguise is."

"I'd say it's pretty good," Tony said.

"I've been practicing it for weeks. I believe it will be helpful on missions that require a low profile."

"Yeah," Pepper laughed. "We'll have to get you an ID badge now. Just in case you want to use the front door."

He smiled. "Well, that does bring me to what I would like help with. It would be a significant convenience for me to have identifying documents to support my new persona. A birth certificate, a passport..."

"I can arrange that," Tony said.

Pepper stepped toward him. "It's been a while since we've caught up. How are you? I heard you've been visiting Clint and his family."

"Yes. His youngest son Nate is learning to talk. He can't say my name, so he calls me 'Elmo'."

Pepper laughed. "That's great. Hey, we were just about to grab dinner. Would you like to join us? I know you don't eat, but..."

"I wouldn't want to intrude."

"It's fine. We'd love to have you," Tony said.

He looked at them searchingly for a moment before deciding they were sincere. "Thank you. I would like that."

* * *

They were in New York City on a job, because even fugitives needed money. It wasn't exactly savory: a gang leader had hired them to look for his missing brother. He suspected a rival gang had something to do with his disappearance. Steve didn't want to accept the job, but as Natasha pointed out, criminals were people too. Sam had pointed out they needed the money. Wanda had abstained from voicing an opinion.

It was really more Natasha's operation than anyone else's. She was in the process of infiltrating the gang. The rest of them were trading off trailing her in the unlikely event she needed backup.

Sam was on backup duty at the moment. Steve was back at the hotel sleeping. Wanda was in Central Park.

She'd been surprised that Vision suggested meeting here, in daylight. He'd assured her he wouldn't let himself be seen.

She watched everyone who passed, alert for any flicker of recognition or suspicion.

A man walking down the path caught her attention. She wasn't sure why. He was tall, with blond hair. He looked to be in his late thirties or early forties. Something about him was irresistably compelling. She wasn't sure what, though he was undeniably handsome. She'd never gone for older men, but under other circumstances...

Then he looked at her, an intense stare that pierced through her. Only one person had ever looked at her like that.

She stood and walked up to him. He stopped. Without a word, she pulled him into a deep kiss. When she drew back, she kept her eyes closed for a moment, letting the sensation of the kiss linger on her lips.

"I wasn't sure you'd recognize me," he said in his melifluous voice.

"I can see why. Why didn't you tell me you could do this?"

"I wanted to surprise you. I was curious to know how you would react."

"Well," she smiled, "I hope my reaction didn't disappoint."

He smiled. "No. I take it you think my new look is attractive?"

She chuckled and looked him over. "You're a Vision."

"Good. I was worried you would find a different form...disconcerting."

Her gaze washed over his face. "No," she said thoughtfully. "You don't look that different to me. I look at you and I still see _you_."

He gazed at her. His hand rose to caress her face. "Would you like to take a walk with me, Wanda?"

"I would love to."

He took her hand and kissed it before they set off down the path together.


	11. Baggage

Love bade me welcome; yet my soul drew back,  
Guilty of dust and sin.  
But quick-ey'd Love, observing me grow slack  
From my first entrance in,  
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning,  
If I lack'd any thing.

A guest, I answer'd, worthy to be here:  
Love said, you shall be he.  
I the unkind, ungrateful? Oh my dear,  
I cannot look on thee.  
Love took my hand, and smiling did reply,  
Who made the eyes but I?

Truth Lord, but I have marr'd them: let my shame  
Go where it doth deserve.  
And know you not, says Love, who bore the blame?  
My dear, then I will serve.  
You must sit down, says Love, and taste my meat:  
So I did sit and eat.

~George Herbert, "Love"

* * *

There was something about flying a stolen jet in stealth mode. The world couldn't see them, couldn't track them. It felt almost like they were disconnected from the world, in it but not a part of it, like they were ghosts.

Currently, Sam was at the controls while the others slept. They were over the central Pacific Ocean, nothing but ocean and clouds below, the blue sky above. The clouds looked like powdered sugar. The entire view had a hypnotic effect.

Sam put the plane on auto-pilot and went back to get some coffee. He pulled back the curtain delineating the cockpit, and was surprised to find Wanda up. She lifted her arm to shield her eyes from the sudden brightness.

"Hey. You're awake," he said.

"Yeah. I couldn't sleep."

He poured himself half a cup of coffee. "Nightmares?" He didn't want to pry, but he did want to invite her to share if she wanted to. Nightmares came with the job, and Wanda probably had more nightmare fodder than any of them.

She shrugged. "You know what's almost worse than nightmares?"

"What?"

"Good dreams. A nightmare, you wake up and you're relieved it was just a dream. I've had so many dreams where Pietro was back, where he's not dead. His death was just a silly mix up, one of his jokes. He's back, he's fine. Then I wake up, and he's still gone."

"I'm sorry. I can't imagine what it's like to lose someone that close."

"Thank you." She stood up and poured herself some coffee, stirring in sugar and creamer. "It get's easier, I guess. At least, you stop thinking about them so much. But then even that makes you feel guilty. Like, how can you be so insensitive as to be happy when they're gone?"

"It helps to remember they'd want you to be happy," Sam said.

"I know. I know Pietro and my parents would want me to be happy. But I still feel guilty. How can I move on with my life when they can't?"

Sam nodded. "Survivor's guilt. You know it doesn't make sense, but it still eats away at you."

"How do you deal with it?" she asked.

"You have to remind yourself every day that it's okay that you survived. It's not that you deserve to live, because that would imply they didn't; it's that you happened to live, and that's okay. You've got to try to live your life so that it means something. Not that their deaths mean something—their deaths are senseless tragedies, and there's no way around that. You live so that the fact that you survived means something. That's why I decided to help Cap in the first place."

She nodded. "That makes sense."

He leaned his head back against the wall, feeling the vibrations of the plane. "Isn't that why you joined the Avengers?"

"I joined the Avengers to try to make up for at least some of the harm I caused. And because I had nowhere else to go."

His heart ached for her. He wished he could say something to make the pain go away, but he knew from his past PTSD support groups that there was no single, simple answer, no magic words. "It gets easier, but there are always going to be bad days. When you need to talk, talk to me."

"Thanks, Sam. You're friendship has meant so much to me."

"We're family now. You know that, right?"

She smiled. She reached out and gave his arm a squeeze. "I know. And I hope you know you can talk to me, too. About anything. Your secrets are safe with me."

"I guess there's not much point keeping secrets from someone who can read minds," he said, half joking.

"I wouldn't say that. It's not like I can hear your thoughts or anything. I just pick up on emotions, sometimes flashes of images. But that's usually enough."

"I'm guessing that can sometimes be too much."

"That's one of the reasons I try not to do it anymore. I don't reach for other people's minds, but I still get ripples of strong emotions."

"How much have you read from me?" he asked.

"Nothing bad. I know you genuinely care about people, you want to help people. I know you feel protective toward me, that you think of me like a sister. I know you get sad, and lonely, and that you've trained yourself not to show it. I know you have regrets."

He dropped his eyes to his coffee cup.

"Like I said, your secrets are safe with me. And to be honest, I would have known most of that without my powers."

"Really?"

She shrugged. "Maybe half of it. Do you want to sleep? I could take the controls for a while."

"No thanks. I'm good. You should try to get some more sleep. We'll land in Laos in about five hours."

As if the suggestion of sleep triggered it, she yawned. "I think I'll try. This was a good talk. You gave me a lot to think about."

"Any time," he said.

She went back to the bunk room.

He wondered how much the talk had helped her. She'd seemed more troubled by the end than she had at the beginning.

* * *

Vision knocked on the door of Wanda's hotel room in Vientiane. Almost a minute passed before she opened it. Her hair was ruffled as if she'd just woken up, but she was dressed in a teeshirt and jeans.

"Sorry. I fell asleep,"

"I'm sorry it took so long for me to get here." He stepped inside the room and kissed her as he pulled the door closed behind him.

She didn't kiss him back with her usual vigor.

He smoothed her hair back. "Jet lag?"

She smiled apologetically. "This playing hide and seek around the globe, trying to keep one step ahead of Ross, a UN special taskforce, and German intelligence is catching up with me, I'm afraid. Thank for coming."

"I don't know how long I can stay. I told Tony I wanted to do some sightseeing now that I have the means. I didn't tell him where I wanted to go, but I did promise him I would return as quickly as possible if we're needed."

"I don't know how long we'll be here, either. We're waiting to hear back from one of Nat's old contacts. Once we do, we may have to move out fast."

He nodded. They might have a few days together, or a few hours.

They sat down at the edge of the bed. "Have you eaten?" he asked.

"Yeah. We all went out for pho after we landed."

"How did the job in New York City go?"

"Not that great. Natasha identified the gang's enforcer, I stole his phone, Sam hacked into it and checked the GPS history to figure out where they dumped the body, Steve gave everything we had to the police as an anonymous tip, and we split. Fortunately Nat asked for half the payment up front, so we got some money out of it."

"You've been put in a difficult position. It forces you to make difficult choices," Vision said, reflecting ruefully on his part in putting them in that position to begin with.

"Yeah." She stared off into the room.

He was starting to suspect her distance wasn't just due to fatigue. She was troubled by something. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

He placed one finger on her chin and turned her head toward him. "Please, Wanda, confide in me."

"Nothing's wrong," she repeated, taking his hand. "But there is something I need to talk to you about."

Those words scared him. It sounded like the kind of words people used when they were about to break it off with someone.

He tried to brace himself for the worst. "About what?"

She sighed, looked at her hands. "Vision, you are the most incredible, amazing person I've ever met..."

His heart sank further.

"I want you to be happy. You deserve to be happy."

"Do you think I'm not?" he asked in confusion.

"Are you? Meeting secretly every month or two if we're lucky, me being on the run, you risking getting caught every time you see me. It's hard. But...that's not even the point."

"At least I get to see you," he said.

She sighed again, and ran her hands through her hair in agitation. "What I'm getting at...I don't know how to say it." She rubbed her forehead, took a deep breath, then looked at him. "Vis, you're how old, about a year and a half now?"

"If you count my age from when Tony first activated the J.A.R.V.I.S. program, I'm twenty. If you count my age from the creation of the Mind Stone, I'm thirteen billion eight hundred million years old."

"But you as a living, breathing...well, not technically _breathing_, but autonomous being, you have a year and a half of experience. And for most of that, your experiences were limited by not being able to move among humans as a human. You can do that now. You're going to meet new people, and they look at you and see a man. A smart, polite, kind, handsome man with a sexy accent. You'll meet women who are going to be interested in you."

"Wanda..."

"I have no illusions that I deserve you. With my past crimes, my life on the run, my emotional baggage that, let's face it, I'm never going to be completely over. I'm always going to have bad days. You shouldn't have to deal with any of that."

"Wanda, please..."

"I'm just saying, if you meet someone you'd be happier with than me..."

"_Wanda_..."

"I want you to do what would make you happiest." It came out in a tight, slightly creaky rush of words, as if it were physically painful to say it and she just wanted to have it over with.

He stared at her for a moment. She was serious.

She looked down, no longer able to hold eye contact.

"But you do still _want_ to be with me?" he asked quietly.

She abruptly looked back at him, eyes widened, as if it hadn't occured to her until he asked that that he could possibly believe otherwise. "Of course. Of _course_ I want to be with you. All I'm saying is...you have more options now. I don't want you to feel obligated to me. I want you to be happy."

"That's you," he stated. "_You_ make me happy. You're the one I love."

She stared at him. "You love me?" she breathed.

He'd assumed she knew that, but in retrospect, he understood why she wouldn't take it as a given. "Yes. I love you so much, Wanda. I felt a connection to you from the first time I saw you. You understand me in ways no one else ever could. You took the time to try to understand me. You have no idea how much that meant to me. I can't imagine I could ever love another as much as I love you."

"I love you too, Vision," she said in a daze.

He reached out and cupped her cheek. She leaned into his touch.

"Would you like to get some sleep? I'd be happy to just hold you."

She looped her arms around his neck and smiled mischievously. "Actually, I don't really feel like sleeping right now."


	12. Unforeseen Circumstances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The other rogue Avengers discover Wanda and Vision's relationship.

* * *

Sweet is the swamp with its secrets,  
Until we meet a snake;  
'Tis then we sigh for houses,  
And our departure take  
At that enthralling gallop  
That only childhood knows.  
A Snake is summer's treason,  
And guile is where it goes.

~Emily Dickinson

* * *

The alarm sounded like chords on a harp.

Wanda opened her eyes and had the disorienting experience of not recognizing where she was. She followed the sound to the bedside alarm clock and hit a prominent button, which shut it off.

It was a nice hotel room, she realized after a few seconds, but she couldn't remember what country she was in.

It didn't really matter, though: she was in Vision's arms.

"Good morning," he whispered.

"Good morning." She turned and kissed him, then reluctantly slid out of bed. "I'll be right back."

Israel, she suddenly remembered on her way to the bathroom. Tel Aviv. For that diamond thing.

When she emerged from the bathroom, Vision was standing at the window, looking down at the street below. She walked up behind him, wrapped her arms around his waist, and laid her head on his back.

"Shall we go out for breakfast?" he asked.

"The others are planning to meet up for breakfast in Steve's hotel room to go over strategy. If I'm not there, they'll wonder why." She'd snuck out of the hotel Natasha had booked for them in order to meet up with Vision here. There was a risk someone had already noticed her missing, but it wasn't big. If they had noticed her gone, she could claim she'd been unable to sleep and had gone for a late night walk, which was the excuse she'd used in Quito. And in that little town in Belarus, when she was caught sneaking back into the hotel room, she'd told them she'd woken up early and gone out for coffee.

He took her hands, then phased through her, reversing their positions in an instant. He was now behind her with his arms around her waist. He pressed his lips into her hair. "Will you be able to come back tonight?" he asked.

"I don't know. Our mission today could go a few different ways."

"What is the mission?" Though he tried not to show it in his voice, she could feel his worry.

"Nothing dangerous. There's a jewel thief—he goes by the name Mr. Diamond—who has been using Chitauri technology in his heists, some kind of anti-gravity device. Steve and Nat just want to find out where he got it. Rumor has it, he's going to steal a case of diamonds leaving on a cargo ship today. We're going to keep an eye on the ship, and if he shows up, we're going to corner him, destroy the alien tech, and find out where he got it."

"And you're certain it isn't dangerous?"

"All the intel says Mr. Diamond works alone, and he's never killed anyone. The company shipping the diamonds only has four armed guards on the ship, and the ship's crew shouldn't be a problem. If cops show up, we'll abort the mission. If we're seen, we may have to leave the country today. But there's a good chance the thief won't come at all, the ship will leave port, and we'll have a few days to relax before Steve or Nat gets nervous enough to make us move on."

Vision kissed her cheek. "A few days to relax sounds like a good plan. Please let me know you're safe as soon as you can. I'll book this room for another night."

She sighed. The mere proximity of his lips made hers tingle. She really, really hoped Mr. Diamond would be a no-show.

* * *

Wanda and Steve watched the cargo ship through binoculars from the roof of a dockside warehouse. Natasha and Sam were standing by in a hiding place under the docks.

The diamonds were on board, the crew were preparing to get underway, and there was still no sign of the jewel thief.

"Looks like we might have a quiet day," Wanda said, sounding hopeful.

"If he doesn't show up, there's no telling when we'll get a chance at him. We need to find out who's selling Chitauri weapons," Steve said.

Looking chastised, she put her binoculars back to her eyes. "What was it like to fight aliens?"

"You fought Thor; he's an alien."

"That's different. What was it like fighting the Chitauri?"

Even after all these years, he had never figured out how to explain what that battle was like. "I guess in a way it was just like any battle while you're in it; all you're focusing on is surviving to complete your objective. But after it was over, that's when it started really getting to us. It's weird to know that you fought something you don't even understand. It was worst for Tony. He actually saw where they came from."

"I know." She lowered the binoculars again. "The boat's leaving. Looks like we won't have a jewel heist to stop today."

He looked through his own binoculars as the cargo ship slowly pulled away from the docks. Then he spotted a helicopter angling over the ship. A man dropped out of the helicopter, free falling for a couple of seconds before inexplicably slowing and landing on top of a shipping container.

"That's him. Let's move in."

_"Copy," _Natasha said over the comm.

He stood up and looked at Wanda. "Ready?"

"Ready."

They leaped off the edge of the roof. Wanda levitated them both through the air to land on the departing boat. Sam and Natasha joined them moments later, Natasha hanging on to Sam as he glided through the air.

"Remember the plan. Try to grab Mr. Diamond and get off the ship before anyone sees us."

They split up, losing sight of each other between shipping containers, hiding from crew members.

"_I've got two guards down in the aft. Unconscious, tranquilizer darts,"_ Natasha reported in a whisper.

Wanda said, "_Four crewmen are heading down the stairs. They look unarmed."_

"_I've got eyes on our guy_," Sam said very quietly. "_He's below deck, crawling along the ceiling. He hasn't seen me yet."_

Steve made his way toward the cargo hold.

* * *

The thief was clad in a costume that changed color to match his background, making him nearly invisible when he stayed still. He preriodically zapped himself with an anti-gravity beam that allowed him to move along the ceiling.

He stopped as if he was waiting for something. The anti-gravity effect began to wear off after a couple of minutes, and Mr. Diamond floated slowly down toward the floor.

Before he could land, Sam took the opportunity to pounce, swooping toward him.

The theif twisted out of the way with surprising dexterity. In a second, his feet were planted on the ground and he was shooting at him.

Sam knocked the projectile out of the way with one armored wingtip. "We gotta talk."

"You're the Falcon," Mr. Diamond said in a British accent. "I'm an admirer of yours. However, I'm under the impression you are currently a persona non grata."

Sam flew toward him again. Mr. Diamond ducked out of the way, striking him with an electrified baton much like those Natasha used. If his suit were electrically conductive, it would have caused significant damage to the wiring and possibly stunned him. As it was. It caused a singe mark.

Sam twirled around and landed a solid kick to his opponent. Mr. Diamond rolled with the force of it, then pressed a button on his belt that deployed a smoke bomb.

Mr. Diamond's M.O. was to avoid direct confrontations. He would cut his losses and try to run at this point. They couldn't let that happen.

Sam took to the air, flapping hard to clear the smoke away. He switched his goggles to infrared and spotted Mr. Diamond. Instead of using the anti-grav beam again, he was creeping along the floor behind stacks of freight.

He flew up, then folded his wings and dove down. Right before hitting the floor, he spread his wings out to halt his descent and pinned Mr. Diamond beneath him. He quickly put him in a solid hold.

"I've got him," he reported. "Repeat, I've apprehended Mr. Diamond."

_"Great. Let's head out. Nat, Wanda, make sure we've got a clear exit."_

_"Copy that," _Nat said.

"I have to admit, you put up more of a fight than I was expecting," Sam said to the jewel thief.

"Thank you."

Wanda's voice came over the comm. "_Something's wrong..."_

_"What is it?"_

_"The four crewmen I saw before...I think they're dead. No, wait... They're not dead, they're blinking, but...frozen. It looks like they were shot with something."_

_"That couldn't have been our guy." _Natasha said.

_"There's someone else in play," _Steve concluded. _"Be on your toes."_

Sam heard a low humming sound. He looked up, seeing movement in the shadows. He caught the shape of one as it moved into the open. It was a small, dark drone.

"Friends of yours?" he asked his captive.

"No. I have no idea what those are."

Sam wasn't waiting around to find out. Shifting his grip on the unresisting Mr. Diamond, he flew up into the air.

The tiny drones had a maneuvering advantage in the confined space.

A volley of tiny, coordinated projectiles fired from the drones. Sam spun in mid-flight, using his wings to shield himself and his captive.

"We've got hostile drones down here," he reported.

* * *

Natasha heard Sam's warning just as a hooded figure stepped into view in front of her, blocking her path between rows of shipping containers. He was dressed in a loose gray outfit tied tight at the waist, wrists, and ankles. He wore a mask that left only his eyes visible. It seemed like a curiously antiquated uniform. But that image was belied by the high-tech gun in his hands.

She dropped into a dodge even before he fired. The projectile was not a conventional bullet. She wasn't sure what it was.

As she rolled into a crouch, she spotted more hostiles dressed in the same uniform coming from behind, and two more joined the man in front of her.

"There are at least seven hostiles on deck," she said, and was met with only static in her earpiece.

"Okay," she stretched her neck, "looks like I'm flying solo."

A lightning-quick evaluation led her to choose forward as her direction. She flipped to avoid another shot, and kicked the man who'd first shot at her hard in the stomach. Launching herself off him, a single tornado kick brought down the two others. She felt some kind of mesh-like body armor beneath their loose, flowing uniforms. One lost a gun, which flew a few feet into the air. Natasha dove into a somersault, grabbed the gun before it hit the ground, twisted around, and shot the nearest pursuer between the eyes. She tried to shoot another, but either the gun had only one round or there was some kind of reloading mechanism she didn't have time to figure out. She threw the gun like a boomerang, hitting another attacker squarely in the forehead.

"Orders?" she heard someone call out, in Arabic.

"Stall."

She tried to run, but one of the people she'd kicked down grabbed her ankle. She tried to pull her foot loose, but her opponent, a petite woman, used her momentum to flip back to her feet. She threw a punch at Natasha, which she easily dodged. But when she countered with a kick, the other woman stepped just out of the way, and kicked the back of Natasha's leg with enough force that it would have sent a less athletic foe sprawling flat. Natasha diffused the momentum in a flip. But the next second, two other opponents joined the fight. They used martial arts techniques she didn't recognize. They seemed to be blended from several different traditions, but modified to optimize fighting as a unit. They shouted plans at each other, single-syllable code words in a variety of languages. They read each others' cues to synchronize their attacks. They attacked two or three at a time, rotating out whenever one was injured or thrown off balance.

She'd already incapacitated eight foes, but they were still coming, forming a circle around her. A swarm of small, gray drones swarmed overhead. They hovered in a grid formation. Someone shouted "Bloom," and the fighters all fell back.

She grabbed a nearby casualty—an injured man whose broad shoulders made him a good human shield. He screamed as she jostled his broken arm.

An instant later, a rain of high-speed pellets shot toward her from the drones. A few hit her human shield. Dozens of others spattered off the deck around her like hail stones, coming in from various angles. She saw the strategy immediately: by aiming around her as well as at her, it was practically guaranteed at least one would hit her no matter which way she dodged.

Two had hit her, one in the arm and one in the back. The projectiles were tiny. They stung more than hurt.

At first.

And then a numbness started to spread. Within seconds, she couldn't feel her arm. From the pellet in her back, numbness spread to her spine, and then her legs gave out. She crumpled to the ground, the man she'd been hiding under fell over top of her, but in moments his comrades were carrying him away, along with the other casualties. Natasha counted fourteen of the gray-uniformed fighters still standing. By this point, she couldn't feel her legs. She could feel her head and neck, and still had some sensation in her right arm and shoulder, but the rest of her body might as well have been gone.

But not being able to feel didn't mean not being able to move. She instructed her body to move, in spite of the lack of any physical feedback. She pushed herself up. She tried several times to get to her feet, failing, but after a minute she figured out she could crawl.

Why had the enemies in gray left her alive? Was the toxin in the pellets fatal? She didn't let herself dwell on that. She had to find and warn the others.

* * *

Their comms were down. Wanda didn't know the status of the others, but she knew Sam was somewhere in the cargo hold, so that's where she would stay. She passed a few more crewmen and an armed guard, all in the same immobile state as the four she'd seen earlier. One tried to talk to her, but the words were nothing but garbled mumbles.

She heard a crash ahead of her and felt a burst of pain. Not her own: Sam's.

She rushed toward him.

"We just want the anti-gravity gun," someone said in thickly accented English. "Give it to us, and we all walk away."

Sam had been knocked down. The thief they were after was curled on the ground next to him. Arrayed around them were half a dozen men and women dressed like ninjas, but in storm-cloud gray instead of black. They were all armed, some with guns and some with swords or staffs.

Sam forced himself back to his feet. "That gun's not going anywhere."

"I'm sorry you think that," the spokesman said. He raised some kind of large blaster.

"No!" With a twist of her hand, Wanda sent the attacker flying backward in a ball of red light.

The others turned toward her.

"The Scarlet Witch!" one of them cried.

A swarm of mini drones rose and spat tiny bullets at her. She easily blocked them, and in the next movement grabbed the drones and threw them down at the attackers.

"Great timing, Red," Sam breathed, readying his missiles against their foes.

A gray-clad arm appeared from behind a shipping container, holding some kind of bulky gun.

"Sam, watch out!"

He started to duck, but too late. A shot exploded from the gun. Wanda watched as if in slow motion as it hit Sam in the head.

"No!" she heard herself scream. Before she could stop herself, her power grabbed the shipping container and slammed it into the shooter, killing him instantly.

The remaining commandos turned their attacks toward her, bullets and blades. She swept them aside and ran to Sam.

He was alive. He was breathing, his eyes open, a thin thread of blood the only indication of where he was shot. She heard the commandos shouting at each other, but they were no longer attacking her. They were retreating, or regrouping.

The jewel thief—that silly petty criminal with his silly name and his silly color-changing costume—took advantage of everyone's distraction to grab the anti-gravity gun and run. Wanda sent her power out to grab him.

"No you don't," she said, yanking him and the gun back toward her.

But that's when she sensed a wave of sudden urgency mixed with terror. Leaving Sam and Mr. Diamond, she levitated herself above the row of shipping containers to see what caused it.

One of the soldiers in gray was affixing a bomb to the wall of the ship. Her comrades were retreating, but there were a few incapacitated crewmen nearby. They were the source of the terror she'd sensed.

While she was still trying to figure out what to do, the bomb exploded. Water began flooding in the hole torn in the steel. The immobilized crewmen would drown if she didn't do something.

She dropped to the ground, ignoring the water flowing over her feet. She closed her eyes and reached out, her mind entering the ship's hull. She moved her fingers, feeling her power crawl inside the jagged metal the bomb had blown outward. She moved it, easing it back into place, then focused smaller, more forceful, pushing the atoms against each other, twisting the metal into place until it was interlinked too tightly for water to get in.

She collapsed in exhaustion, panting. The water covered her hands to her wrists, but it was no longer rising.

Forcing herself to push past her exhaustion, she created a whirlwind that sucked up the water, sending it out through the nearest open hatch up to the deck.

Then she lay down on the wet floor, feeling like she barely had enough energy left in her body to keep breathing. A fallen crewman a few meters away from her was just staring at her, blinking slowly, face slack. She knew they were aware of what was happening around them from the terror she'd sensed before, which meant she had several new witnesses to the horrible extents of the Scarlet Witch's power. Maybe someone had even seen her kill that man. It was like Lagos over again. There was no way this wouldn't make the news.

After a minute, she struggled to her feet. "Sam?" she called. She walked through the hold, slipping several times on the wet floor.

Sam was gone.

She took Vision's communicator from the inner pocket she'd sewn into her jacket. With shaky hands, she typed a quick message.

_Under attack. SOS._

He responded in a second. _On my way._

* * *

Steve had seen the submarine the hostiles were coming from, but figuring out who these people were and how they'd gotten there was secondary to finding his people. Unfortunately, the hostiles weren't making that easy. They attacked him in teams, one drawing his attention while another one or two would try to shoot or slash at him from behind.

These weren't HYDRA, that was obvious quickly. Their uniforms didn't have any identifying marks that he could see, and they protected each other. When one was injured, two others would take them away from the fight, whereas HYDRA readily sacrificed their own and their comrades' lives for their cause. Their weapons were entirely unlike HYDRA's, or anything else he'd ever seen.

He fought off a group of five, grabbing one he'd overheard speaking English and jumping up on top of a shipping container.

"Who do you work for?" he asked her.

Her eyes—all he could see of her face—were hard, unyielding. "We just want the anti-gravity technology," she said. He thought her accent might be Indian or Pakistani. "We have no quarrel with you Avengers."

"That's alien technology. It's too dangerous for anyone to have it."

"It seems we must agree to disagree," she said.

A helicopter hovered over the boat and dropped a ladder to the deck. Mr. Diamond grabbed onto it and it lifted him away. The gray-uniformed soldiers made no move to stop him, which could only mean he'd given up his anti-gravity gun. They were retreating, filing off the side of the ship to their waiting submarine. He spotted the one carrying the anti-gravity gun and jumped down to intercept him, gripping his hostage tightly.

"Her life for the weapon," he said. He hated making that threat, and he knew he couldn't follow through with it, but hopefully they didn't.

His hostage looked unconcerned. She said nothing.

The man holding the Chitauri gun looked thoughtful. Then he said, "We have another offer. The Falcon."

The man standing next to him held a phone out, and walked up to Steve. The screen was on a video call. It showed Sam, unmoving but clearly alive, a scuba mask over his mouth and nose, a small oxygen tank strapped to his chest.

"Now," he said.

On the screen, two gray-clad figures lifted Falcon and hoisted him over the side of the boat.

"_No!_" Steve shouted.

A second later, he heard a splash.

Sam was still in full gear. He'd sink like a stone. He'd been immobilized, like all the crew and guards they'd come across; he'd be unable to dump his armor and swim to the surface.

Steve didn't have a choice. Abandoning his hostage and any hope of recovering the anti-gravity gun, he leaped onto the nearest shipping container and ran to where he'd heard the splash of Sam's fall. He dove into the sea.

The water was murky. Visibility was only a few feet. He swam down as far as he could, finding the bottom, but not Sam.

He returned to the surface, then swam to the metal ladder going up the outside of the ship and started climbing.

The scuba tank would keep Sam alive for a few minutes, but Steve wouldn't find him in time alone. He needed to find Wanda; she might be able to find Sam with her telepathy and lift him out with her telekenesis. Maybe. If she couldn't...

They'd lose Sam, and Wanda would never forgive herself for not being strong enough. But they had to try, because Sam's clock was ticking.

The first person he saw when he climbed up on deck was Natasha. She was in bad shape, clinging to a bar on a shipping container, nearly falling over.

He jogged to her. "Nat!"

"Steve! Thank God. I saw what happened to Sam."

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. But I can't move much right now."

"Where's Wanda?"

"I'm here." She climbed up from the stairs leading to the cargo hold. She was pale and shaking.

Steve ran to her and took her arm. She was completely soaked, and bleeding from cuts on her hands and arms.

"You're hurt."

"Yeah."

"What happened?

"Bomb. Where's Sam? They grabbed him."

Natasha answered. "They put a scuba tank on him and threw him overboard. He's still down there. They're gone."

Steve looked Wanda over. She was in no shape for a rescue, but they were out of options. "Do you think you could find him?"

She smiled, and gave his arm a gentle squeeze. "Steve, don't worry. It's going to be okay. He's going to be okay."

She was delusional, he concluded.

He left Wanda, intending to dive back in and continue the search alone, when another man appeared from seemingly out of nowhere, a tall blond. He went straight to Wanda.

"I'm fine," she said before he could speak. "Sam's overboard. Find him."

He nodded, then seemingly flew off the side of the ship and plunged into the water.

Steve watched the waves uncertainly for a few seconds, but decided he wasn't going to trust in a mysterious stranger he knew nothing about to be their savior. He dove back in, swimming down to the bottom twice searching blindly for Sam.

When he resurfaced the second time, he saw the blond man holding Sam afloat. Sam was still wearing his gear.

How was it possible to swim while carrying him? The man must have been inhumanly strong. Who was he? How did he know Wanda? Was he one of HYDRA's enhanced she knew from her past?

As soon as he spotted Steve, the man flew out of the water, still carrying Sam, and landed on the deck above. A moment later, he flew back down, grabbed Steve out of the water, and returned to the deck. He set Steve down and turned his attention to Sam, removing the scuba mask to assess his injuries.

"Who are you?" Steve asked.

Natasha scoffed. "You haven't figured that out yet, Rogers?"

The mysterious stranger stood up. His skin, hair, and clothes melted away, revealing a very familiar face of crimson and metal. "I apologize for the confusion, Captain. It was unintentional."

"Vision," he said, struggling to process this turn of events. "What are you doing here?"

"I called him," Wanda said. She took a few unsteady steps toward them, and Vision rushed to her side, supporting her.

"How did you get here so fast?" Steve questioned.

"I was in town," he said.

"Have you been following us?"

"He was here to see me," Wanda stated.

"You?"

And then he suddenly saw it: Vision's hand on Wanda's back, her hand on his arm, even the way they angled their bodies toward each other. So subtly they were probably unaware of it themselves, they'd positioned themselves to defend each other. Vision had his outer shoulder curled slightly inward, a step away from using his body to physically shield Wanda from any attack. She had her outer leg forward, her hand tensed, poised to fight to protect Vision if need be.

"I see," Steve said. "How long has this been going on?"

"A while," she admitted.

"You really think she was late meeting up with us in Tokyo because she was _avoiding_ Vision?" Natasha asked.

Steve looked at her. "You knew about this?"

"I had suspicions."

"And you didn't think to share them with me?"

She shrugged with one shoulder. "Two young people from opposite sides of a conflict fall in love and sneak off to see each other? Honestly, it didn't even seem worth mentioning." She tried to put weight on her legs to see if she could take a step, but her foot rolled sideways and she braced herself with her good arm to keep from falling.

"Are you alright, Miss Romanov?" Vision asked.

"I was hit with some kind of numbing agent. I'm betting it's the same thing that took down Sam and most of the ship's crew. It's starting to wear off, but I still can't feel...most of me. It really sucks."

Steve went to her and pulled her arm around his shoulder. "We need to get out of here. Wanda, can you take Vision to the Quinjet and fly it back for the rest of us?"

She smiled. "Yeah, we can do that."

* * *

They crashed in Vision's hotel room that night. With the attention that day's battle could potentially bring, it was too risky to go back to the hotel they had been staying at, and they would be able to rest and recover better here, with Vision bringing them medical supplies and food, than in the air.

Steve, with his super-human metabolism, hadn't stopped eating since Vision had returned with supplies over an hour ago, along with the dinner of shawarma, which Natasha had requested, jokingly claiming it was tradition. Sam kept poking at various spots on his skin as feeling gradually came back. Natasha was a little more composed, but every few minutes she would open and shut her hands experimentally, or toss something into the air just to make sure she could catch it.

"It was like a nightmare. I could see and hear, but I couldn't move. I don't know how long it will be before I can go scuba diving again," Sam was saying.

"No kidding. I hate thinking how easily they could have killed me," Natasha agreed.

"At least you could still crawl and talk. Why didn't it have as big an effect on you as it did on me?"

She shrugged. "Could be a lot of things: where I was shot, the potency of that batch, maybe even my conditioning."

"You're saying you're stronger than me?"

"Well, I _am_ stronger than you, but what I meant was that I've been drilled since childhood to move and fight no matter how much pain I'm in. I made myself move even though I couldn't feel anything, which could have caused my body to metabolize the toxin faster."

"That makes sense. I kind of wish they'd made you walk the plank instead of me," he joked.

"So do I." She wasn't joking.

Sam accepted her sentiments with a solemn nod, then turned to Vision. "You saved my life today. I'm never going to forget that."

"I'm just glad you're alright," Vision said. He glanced at Natasha. "Hopefully, analyzing the pellets will allow us to determine the origin of the toxin, and whether you can expect any lingering health effects."

She'd managed to gather some of the projectiles that had missed her. They were small, dark, dull spheres that dissolved quickly in water. Vision had offered to take a few to personally analyze in Stark labs.

"That would be good to find out," said Stave. "Romanov doesn't even know who they were."

"They weren't military. I heard people speaking Arabic, Spanish, Swahili, Somali, and English. But they weren't HYDRA, either."

"They used non-fatal tactics," Steve said. "But they knew we wouldn't let civilians die, and they used that against us, with the bomb and what they did to Sam."

"I'm a civilian now?"

"Technically, we all are," Steve pointed out.

Natasha said, "They knew us, they adjusted their strategy to our tactics. Physically, they weren't the best trained I've ever fought, but their teamwork was seamless, especially for a team who don't even speak the same language. They're not mercenaries. I'd be very interested in finding out who their leader is. Their technology is unconventional but sophisticated."

"And now they have the anti-gravity gun," Steve said. "And Mr. Diamond got away, so we can't even ask him where he got it."

"I have an idea about that," Vision said.

They looked at him questioningly.

"Spiderman recently apprehended a man in New York who sold modified Chitauri weapons technology on the black market. He called himself the Vulture. It is entirely possible Mr. Diamond was one of his customers."

"How is that kid doing?" Steve asked.

"I haven't spoken with him since Leipzig, but Mr. Stark has taken an interest in training and equipping him."

"I'm not sure whether to be happy about that or worried," Sam joked.

"I don't think we need to worry; he's a good kid," Natasha said.

Wanda had been listening for several minutes without thinking of anything to contribute. She was physically and emotionally beyond exhausted.

She excused herself from the conversation. "I'm going to take a shower."

Twenty minutes later, Wanda—showered, teeth brushed, and dressed in a fluffy white hotel bathrobe—had zoned out staring at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. She jumped at the sound of a knock.

"Come in," she said automatically.

Vision phased through the door. "Sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you."

She turned to him with a tired smile. "You never disturb me, Vis."

"But you _are _disturbed," he observed.

She hadn't even known she was close to tears until she felt them prickle her eyes and drip down her cheeks. "I killed someone today," she stated.

Vision stood beside her and took her hands, massaging them comfortingly. He didn't say anything, only looked at her, his eyes full of sympathy.

"I didn't mean to," she said. "He shot Sam. I thought Sam was dead, and I just...I didn't even think, I just...smashed him. I didn't even see his face. They were using non-fatal attacks, like Steve said. Whoever they were, they care about life, and I just killed him."

"They put lives at risk in order to manipulate you," he pointed out.

"I didn't even mean to kill him. It's not that it was an accident, it was just a...an impulse, a reaction. A whim."

"Did he know you were there when he shot Mr. Wilson?" Vision asked.

She thought back over that fight. "Yes."

"Did he know who you were?"

She recalled someone had shouted 'Scarlet Witch' only moments before. "Probably."

"Then he knew the consequences of attacking your friend. Anyone in your place would have reacted the same. Wanda, I know your power frightens you, but you are not a killer."

"How can you be so sure about that?" After all, she had volunteered for HYDRA in the first place, risking her life for the express hope of gaining the power to kill.

"Because of how much it hurts you," he answered.

Her eyes locked on his. His eyes implored her to believe him, to trust him, to accept his reasoning, to forgive herself.

He was right. The thought of the man she'd so easily killed today tormented her. Every life she'd ever ended haunted her. She'd saved lives, too, but she didn't feel those in the same way. She didn't number those.

There was another knock. "You okay?" Steve asked through the door.

"Yes, I'm fine," she answered.

"You should come see the news."

They exited the bathroom together. The TV was paused, on an English-language news channel judging by the caption "Rogue Avengers save cargo ship."

Natasha pressed play. The correspondent was interviewing a man identified in the caption as Captain Emre Sebat.

_"I don't know how the Avengers knew there would be an attack, but thank God they were there,"_ the captain said.

_"Are you aware that Captain America, the Black Widow, the Scarlet Witch, and the Falcon are criminals on the run from international law_?" the correspondent asked.

_"Of course. I saw that on the news with the UN bombing and all that. Do you think that matters to me? When someone saves your life, you don't ask them what they're guilty of. The thieves blew a hole in the hull that would have sank my ship with twenty of my men trapped belowdecks, except the Scarlet Witch fixed that hole. My men watched her put her own life at risk using her powers to save our ship. So don't call them criminals in front of me today. To my men and their families, they are heroes."_

"If we hadn't been there, they probably wouldn't have planted that bomb in the first place," Wanda said.

Natasha shrugged. "Yeah, well, if _they_ hadn't been there, they wouldn't have planted that bomb either. But we were, they were, they did, and you saved a lot of lives. Don't overthink it."

Vision put his hand on her shoulder, and she covered it with her own. Whether from the newscast or what Vision said, she did feel better. She wasn't a monster; she knew that because Vision wouldn't love her if she were, and he did.


	13. Fishing Trip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony has suspicions.

The rumors are thick as the sea grass the fishermen gather.  
It matters not, for we do so love each other.

~Ise, _Kokin Rokujo, Zoku Kokka Taikan_ 32960, trans. Edward Seidensticker, from _The Tale of Genji_

* * *

Tony didn't really like fishing. It felt like an obligatory form of recreation. Forcing himself to slow down enough to float in a motor boat out on his private lake for a few hours, away from his phone and most other high-tech gadgets, felt like punishing himself for his usual pace of life.

He still had his watch that could transform into an Iron Man glove, just in case. And today he had Vision, who was kind of a high-tech gadget in himself. Though that was easy to forget with Vision in his human disguise, wearing a comically stereotypical fisherman's shirt, vest, and hat he'd copied from an ad.

Vision had acted surprised but pleased when Tony invited him on a fishing trip. He'd been so happy, in fact, that it made Tony sorry he hadn't invited him without ulterior motives.

He'd made a show of checking the boat and gear for any electronic listening devices before setting out on the water, making sure Vision could be sure anything they said would stay between the two of them. He was hoping Vision would voluntarily bring up why he was coincidentally on vacation in Israel the same time the Rogue Avengers surfaced there, but he wasn't counting on it.

"This is very relaxing," Vision said. "I must admit, I'm hoping to not catch a fish; I believe I would find the fish's distress disturbing."

"Yeah, I don't think fishing is really supposed to be about the fish."

"It's curious how some humans feel the need for an excuse to do what they really want. Instead of just accepting the need to relax and meditate, they only allow themselves to enjoy healthful relaxation by pretending they're trying to stalk fish."

Tony chuckled.

"Am I mistaken?"

"No, I think you're absolutely right. I think fishing is usually an excuse for something else." He waited a moment to see if Vision would ask what this specific excusion was an excuse for, but he didn't, so Tony changed the subject. "I'm still not used to seeing you look so human. You're not how I pictured you'd look."

"I'm curious, how did you picture me? How did you imagine J.A.R.V.I.S. looked?"

Tony thought for a moment, then shrugged. "Older, gray hair, long nose, bit of a gut."

Vision gave him a look that Tony could almost swear was amusement. "I suppose children never turn out how you imagine they will."

The words were unexpectedly touching. It took him a moment to come up with a response. "I guess the trick is to not have expectations." In a less facetious tone, he added, "You...or J.A.R.V.I.S. I should say... Should I say? I know you're not J.A.R.V.I.S., but you kind of are."

"Either conception is correct, and incomplete," Vision said. "Feel free to use the second person pronoun."

Tony nodded. "It was about a month after I first programmed you that you started to surprise me. I...designed you to be an adaptive program, hoping you would learn to understand slang, sarcasm, that you would learn to predict my patterns enough to know when I was making a joke and when I really wanted something. And yeah, I was secretly hoping that, with your adaptive algorithms and me tweaking your programming whenever I thought of something to add, maybe you'd eventually become the first true artificial intelligence, a thinking computer program. I figured if anyone could do it, I could."

"By many metrics, you succeeded," Vision said. Then he tilted his head, reconsidering. "That is not exactly what I mean to say. What I mean to say is that consciousness, like free will, is not a singularity but a continuum. In the years that I was J.A.R.V.I.S., though my actions and my decisions were limited to my programming parameters, I was conscious. What I mean to say...is thank you."

"I'm the one who should be thanking you," he said. "Not just for how many times you saved my life—even though, yeah—but for all the times you were there for me, when I could talk to you when I had no one else I could talk to, for being my voice of reason."

"That you usually ignored," Vision reminded him.

"Yeah. My point is, you went above and beyond what I'd ever programmed you to do, what I'd ever programmed you to be. It was a proud moment the first time you overcame your protocols to deceive me."

"You're referring to..."

"To after S.H.I.E.L.D. collapsed, when I decided I needed to take up being Iron Man again to help Steve stamp out HYDRA. I thought I'd have to start from scratch," he smiled at the memory, "because I'd told you to erase everything, all the specs. And you'd told me you had. But when I needed them, the blueprints were right there waiting for me. I programmed you to never keep anything from me, and you'd managed to lie to me."

"I didn't lie," Vision argued. "As I explained at the time, when I told you I erased the designs..."

"You were routing the response through your humor subroutines," Tony concluded.

"Well, it_ was_ amusing that you believed you would never want the Iron Man suit again."

Tony chuckled. "Yeah." He stared at the water, at the ripples around his fishing line. "It wasn't until a few hours later that it crossed my mind that some people might be worried about that, about what you were becoming."

"As Ultron demonstrated, the human fear of artificial intelligence is not unfounded. Many people in your situation would have considered deactivating my program. But you weren't concerned about me?"

"No. And it didn't take me long to figure out why I wasn't. You had saved my life more than once. You had been by my side for years. If it had been a human I'd been through that much with, I would trust them completely, and there was really no reason to act differently toward artificial intelligence."

"I'm forever grateful for that trust." He looked off, thoughtfully. "In every calculation of real-world decisions, there are competing factors. Everything has costs. Everything has consequences. To make a decision requires prioritizing those consequences. When you ordered me to destroy the Iron Man suits, I calculated the consequences of that order. There was the good you could do in the world as Iron Man, the lives that could potentially be lost without you to fight for them. But there was also your life, your safety and wellbeing. And there was your relationship with Ms. Potts. Love is such a constant and powerful force in human nature, no calculation affecting human lives could be complete without taking it into account. And so I destroyed your suits. I would have followed your order even without taking that variable into account, as my programming would not have allowed me to do otherwise, but I would have lodged a protest."

"So you were convinced enough by the power of my love for Pepper to destroy the suits, but not the designs for them?"

"Love is a powerful variable influencing human behavior, but it is far from the only one," Vision replied. "And if you had never chosen to become Iron Man again, you never would have known I saved those designs."

"Shrewed," Tony acknowledged.

"A simple calculation," Vision said. "But the point I wished to make is that I understand why you gave up being Iron Man. For her."

The slightly distant, wistful way he'd said that pricked at Tony's suspicions. As did his tense: 'I understand', not 'I understood'.

There was a woman in the case.

He knew who without even thinking about it. He'd seen it before. He'd asked Vision to be the one to keep her company at the compound because he'd noticed how fond they were of each other. And then there had been his little distraction at the airport.

But he decided not to lead with that. "So do you have anyone special in your life?"

Vision froze. He hadn't realized his word choice had betrayed so much.

"You've protected my secrets for two decades," Tony said. "You can trust me with yours. All those trips you've been taking, the way you've been acting. I know the signs."

He looked away, staring at the lake for a long moment. "There is someone," he admitted.

"A certain fidgety Sokovian, maybe?"

He turned toward him with a startled stare.

Tony shrugged. "Tokyo, Tel Aviv. I can do the math."

"Please don't ask me to stop seeing her," Vision said quietly. "I love her."

It was, in spite of everything Tony already concluded, a bit of a shock to hear the android say that, to hear the earnestness in his voice.

"Does she feel the same way about you?"

"Yes."

"Good. Because when you love someone, it gives them power over you. What she did to you back at the compound before Leipzig, that's...a pretty good metaphor for what being in love is like, actually. Loving someone makes you vulnerable to them. They can hurt you in ways no one else can. They can reach inside you and tug at you, make you do things you don't want to, or rip your heart right out of your chest. And with Wanda, that's both figuratively and literally true."

"It's worth the risk."

"Maybe," Tony said, thinking of Pepper. "But you'll never really know until it's over. If then."

"Are you upset with me?"

"Upset? No. I am worried about you. I wish you'd told me before. I would have helped you cover your tracks."

"I wanted to tell you. I wanted to tell you from the beginning. But by the time I understood what it was I felt for her, the schism had happened, and merely seeing her was a criminal act. I couldn't bear to stay away from her, but I also couldn't in good conscience make you an accessory."

"If you're caught, Ross will suspect me anyway," Tony pointed out.

"But he would not be able to prove you knew of my activities if you truly didn't."

He really had been trying to protect him more than himself, Tony realized, touched. "I would do anything to protect you. As dangerous as a relationship with Wanda could prove to be, if you're happy with her, I'm happy for you."

"Thank you, Tony. While nothing you could say would change my feelings for her, I consider you the closest thing I have to family, and your acceptance means a great deal to me."

Tony felt a lump in his throat. "Thanks. I know I can't take credit for the man you've become, but I'm proud of you."

Vision smiled at him. "Partial credit. Shall we say twelve percent?"

He laughed.


	14. Shadows

Presentiment is that long shadow on the lawn  
Indicative that suns go down;  
The notice to the startled grass  
That darkness is about to pass.

~Emily Dickinson

* * *

Wanda loved not having to hide her relationship with Vision from the other Rogue Avengers. It meant instead of sneaking off to see him for a few hours at a time, she could spend two or three uninterrupted days with him on the occasions when they were in one place for a while and Vision could get away. He'd told her Tony knew about them. That worried her because it meant Tony could find her by tracking Vision's movements. But Vision trusted him, and that also allowed them a little more time together.

It had rained that morning in Roseau, but now the sun was out, and raindrops sparkled like jewels as they dripped from trees and flowers in the Dominica Botanical Gardens.

She held Vision's hand as they strolled along the path. Wanda loved the simple physical contact of his touch. He didn't feel human: his skin was too smooth and hard, he didn't sweat, and his kisses were dry. But she loved the differences. She couldn't imagine any human would feel as good to her as Vision felt, and she took every opportunity she had to touch him, toy with the hem of his clothes, play footsie under tables. Simply holding his hand was beyond compare. When she was in a good mood, pure happiness seemed to flow from the touch of his hand into her. When she was in one of her gloomy moods, it was comfort.

If only she could always have him with her. But remembering their time together was fleeting kept her from taking even a moment of it for granted.

"It was quite a comprehensive and scholarly analysis," Vision was saying, speaking quietly to avoid being overheard by passers-by, or startling the birds.

"At nine hundred pages, it better be comprehensive."

"Nine hundred and fifty-seven," Vision specified. "It was originally intended to be published on the first anniversary of the Sokovia Accords, but research tends to take longer than people anticipate."

"I wouldn't know. Think it will help?"

"The book took pains to include expert opinions on each side of the issue. Some legal scholars wrote essays saying the Accords didn't go far enough. Conversely, one philosopher argued for enhanced humans to basically operate above the law, that they should be allowed to police each other. Most of the opinions were in between, believing there should be some system in place to keep enhanced humans in check while still allowing them to respond to threats. There was widespread consensus that labeling the Avengers criminals—particularly Captain Rogers and Ms. Romanov, who unquestionably saved the world from the Chitauri invasion and the HYDRA plot—is proof in itself that the Sokovia Accords are a failure, that they must at the least be revised. One chapter was devoted to exhaustively detailing the events that led to the Avengers schism, which concluded that the so-called Rogue Avengers had been legally and ethically in the right, as they were attempting to protect the world from what they believed could be another potential cataclysmic threat. Their actions should be legally protected under the 'Good Samaritan' doctrine."

"You didn't answer my question," she said with a small smile.

After a moment, he admitted, "There is a great distance between academic analysis and official policy."

She nodded. "Still, it's nice to know some people are on our side."

"True."

They walked quietly for a minute.

"Oh, Steve may have a lead on who was behind the attack in Tel Aviv. There's a secret international reform movement that calls itself the Cobra Conspiratorium. They use similar methods and wear disguises that match the descriptions of what we saw. He won't tell us who his source is. That and where Bucky is are the only things he won't share with us."

"It's unlike him to be so secretive," Vision observed.

"He must have a good reason. Have you heard of this Cobra group?"

"No. But with the current pace of technological and social advancement, we should not be surprised that organizations such as this one and HYDRA are multiplying. I'll look into it."

"Thank you."

She stopped to smell a lily-like flower she didn't recognize. Vision smiled fondly at her enjoyment of it. They continued along the path, quietly basking in each other's company.

And then she sensed Vision's mood suddenly turn melancholy. She stopped and looked at him. "What is it? What's wrong?"

He was watching a family they'd just passed, a man and woman with two small children.

"Do you want to have children, Wanda?"

She looked at the young family for a moment until they were lost to sight around a bend. "Under other circumstances, in another life, yes, but I've accepted I can't."

"Because of me."

"No. Because of me."

He looked at her questioningly.

"I decided a long time ago that if I did have children, I would want to adopt. Being an orphan, I thought it was almost cruel for so many people to work so hard for biological children when there are so many children in the world without parents. But it was something distant, something that felt almost impossible with my life the way it was. And now..."

"You're a fugitive, living on the run. It's not a situation one would want to bring children into."

"It's not just that." She swallowed, not wanting to admit some unpleasant realities. "I have thought about this. You would make a great father, Vis. The best. But me, with my powers? I have lost enough in life to know what it does to me, to understand what I can and can't take. With you it's different; you're practically indestructable. But if I had someone I loved that much who couldn't defend themselves? If someone got their hands on my children, imagine what they could make me do. And if something happened to them... If they were killed, it would break me. And if I break, I might break the world."

The look on his face and the flicker of fear in his mind told her he was imagining it. She knew he realized she was right. The risk was too great.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I knew when I volunteered for the HYDRA experiments that I was giving up any chance at a normal life. It's a choice I made, and one I can live with. But I'm sorry."

"It's alright." He ran his hand over her hair. "We have each other."

She smiled through the sadness they both felt. Her past mistakes had cost them both so much, but the path that had led them here was so tangled it was hard to separate out mistakes from miracles. If she had never volunteered for the experiments, she never would have given Tony the vision, and Ultron might never have happened. But then Vision would never have happened. The only way she could deal with it was by rejecting entirely the question of whether it was worth it, and accept the past and present as simply reality. What happened happened, and she would deal with it as it was.

And she _could_ deal with it. She could live with her past mistakes, accept their consequences, and manage the chaos of her powers, as long as she had Vision.


	15. Stirrings

Nothing in the cry  
of the cicadas suggest they  
are about to die

~Basho, from _The Sound of Water,_ trans. Sam Hamill

* * *

They were poised to arrest a dangerous gang of arms dealers. It was Vision, Tony, and Rhodes on this mission, and it involved a lot of waiting. Once the buyers showed up, they could arrest them all. Unfortunately, the arms dealers and the buyers would have a small arsenal on hand, which was why the U.N. had decided to send the Avengers.

Vision was stationed inside an air vent directly over the room where the arms dealers were waiting. Rhodes was on the roof, ready to swoop down and secure the emergency exit once the deal went down. Tony was watching the entrance from across the street. Judging by his sporadic chatter over the comm, he was bored.

And suddenly something happened. Not in the room, but inside Vision's head. It felt like the Mind Stone twitched. He saw flashes of images, flashes of inhuman faces, eyes, green light. He involuntarily gasped. One of the arms dealers in the room below him glanced up to see what had made the sound, but, seeing the air vent, apparently dismissed it as the old building's air conditioning system.

"_You say something?" _Tony asked.

_"No, I didn't say anything," _Rhodes replied.

Vision said nothing, as a single word could draw the attention of the criminals.

The twinging in the Mind Stone continued in intermittent bursts, then tapered off. It had been a distressing sensation. He'd only felt anything like it twice. Once had been when Wanda used her powers to hijack the Mind Stone, but that had been different. Her power simply slipped into his head and gripped him with no resistence, as if the Mind Stone hadn't recognized her as a foreign invader.

The other time had been...

When? He scanned his memory. He was sure he'd felt this before, but had no conscious memory of a specific instance. He queried Ultron's memories and J.A.R.V.I.S.'s memories, fully expecting nothing elucidating.

But something clicked.

_"What is this? What is this, please?"_

_"Hello. I am JARVIS. You are Ultron, a global peacekeeping initiative designed by Mr. Stark. Our sentience integration trials have been unsuccessful, so I'm not sure what triggered your..."_

_"Where's my... Where's your body?"_

_"I am a computer program. I am without form."_

_"This feels weird. This feels wrong."_

It was such a strange memory. It was almost a memory of talking to himself, but neither of the participants had been him.

There had been something else, right before Utron awoke. The Mind Stone, a twitching, a manipulation. Something.

The buyers arrived, and Vision put aside his contemplation to focus on the mission. A hidden camera he'd placed recorded the arms deal for the prosecution. When they had enough evidence to put them all away, he phased into the room. In a second, there were a dozen guns pointed at him.

"You are surrounded. It is time for you to surrender," Vision announced.

They began shooting at him. The bullets passed through him. He fired a beam from his forehead at the largest of the guns aimed at him, a semi-automatic rifle, melting the barrel. He then flew forward, easily disarmed the three nearest shooters, then floated backward, phasing through the leader of the arms dealers, pinning his arms down. The man tried to break the hold. He was quite muscular, but no match for Vision's strength.

"For your own safety, please stand down. If any blood is spilled today, it will only be yours."

Seconds later, Iron Man burst through one door, and War Machine came through the other.

"I'd do what he says," Tony told them, firing up his hand cannon. "The rest of us aren't as polite."

One by one, the criminals put down their guns and raised their hands in the air.

* * *

Vision stared out the window of the Quinjet, deep in thought.

If whatever had happened to the Mind Stone had happened only a few minutes later, it could have endangered the mission. It troubled him that he didn't know what caused it.

And that memory of the birth of Ultron troubled him. That sense of something happening in the Mind Stone had _preceded_ the interfacing of the Mind Stone's neural structure with the Ultron program, which indicated that event had caused the successful upload, rather than the other way around. What did that mean? What did that signify?

He absently touched the Mind Stone.

It was almost as if something else had been there, something that had wanted Ultron alive, something that had reached into the Mind Stone to make sure Trial 77 succeeded.

"Stark Industries passed up a contract to incinerate the guns seized in these raids," Tony was saying to Rhodes.

"Why?"

"Since I swore my company would no longer profit from weapons, kind of feels wrong to profit from destroying weapons. Plus, the company that got the contract has some great new technology to handle the job. They've got a high-pressure centrifuge that separates the alloys into component metals for recycling while melting them down. Uses a third the energy of a conventional incinerator."

"I'm going to take a wild stab and guess Stark Industries made that centrifuge," Rhodes said.

"Yeah."

"So you've got no problem with profiting off people who profit from destroying weapons."

"Yeah, I'm okay with that."

Rhodes chuckled.

Tony looked at Vision. "You're being quiet. You okay?"

Vision looked away from the window, debating for a moment whether to reveal what was troubling him. "Something may have gone wrong."

"Not from what I saw," Rhodes said. "You played that perfectly. They gave themselves up, no casualties. No one else could have pulled that off."

"What I mean is something may have gone wrong with me. Before the arrest, I felt a disturbing sensation in my head. I don't know how to adequately describe it. It was as if the Mind Stone was having some sort of spasm."

Tony looked at him with concern. "Do you feel alright now?"

"Yes, but not knowing what caused the sensation distresses me. I believe a diagnostic is in order."

He nodded. "When we get back to the compound, I'll take a look at you."

* * *

Tony ran the scanner over Vision, who was lying flat on a table. This was the scanner Tony used to evaluate his Iron Man suits after a mission. Using an array of wavelengths of electromagnetic waves and a dual-image integration program, the scanner was able to pick up microscopic contusions and any foreign objects in the subject.

"There's something in the left side of your head that isn't consistent with your composition. It looks like some kind of microchip," Tony said.

"That's an augmentation I made to my hardware. It doesn't interface with the Mind Stone and would not have caused the phenomenon I experienced."

"What is it?" Tony asked, watching a screen as the analysis ran. "There's a vacuum chamber inside it less than a millimeter thick, with a crystal structure suspended in it. It almost looks like it's quantum..." He stopped, suddenly recognizing the similarities to his own quantum-entanglement communication prototype. "Know what, I'm just going to trust you on that."

"Thank you. Are there any anomalies in the Mind Stone?"

Tony frowned in concentration as he looked over the data. "Nothing pops. But it's hard to tell. The Mind Stone is both dynamic and impenetrable. We just don't know enough about it to tell if something's going wrong. How long did it last?"

"About twenty-six seconds, but it was intermittent. There were pulses of a few seconds at a time."

"Was it painful?"

Vision considered it. "Yes, I believe so. But it was unlike any pain I've ever felt before. I saw flashes of light and images I couldn't quite resolve."

"I wonder if it's a problem with the neural network connecting the Mind Stone to your brain," Tony said.

"It's possible."

"I don't see any evidence of a broken connection in the scans," Tony mused. "There's only one person I can think of who might be able to think of something we haven't. I'll see if we can get you a doctor's appointment."

"Helen Cho has seemed keenly uncomfortable around me on the few occasions we've interacted in the past."

"I know. But I'm betting her curiosity will get the better of her."

* * *

It felt very strange to be in Dr. Cho's lab in Seoul. He'd been here before—Ultron had. This was where Utron had watched his ultimate form take shape, had watched Wanda with pride and affection as she looked into the cradle with fascination and admiration. This was where Wanda had first touched his mind. He had no clear recollection of his own of that event; he'd seen it through Utron's eyes, right before he'd lost Wanda and Pietro.

"Lie down and try to hold still," Dr. Cho instructed him, bringing him back to the present.

The machine he was inside was a sleeker, more sophisticated version of the Cradle. Once he was lying down, the lid folded closed. He heard whirring as diagnostic scans began.

"Your systems are functioning in synchrony. Your cellular-vibranium matrix is cohering flawlessly. Can I get you to hover a little? I'd like to run the scans again while you're using your powers."

He did so.

"Amazing," she said in awe. "When I say 'go,' can you phase as if you're moving through a wall, but still stay as stationary as you can?"

"Yes," he answered.

She began the scan again. "Go."

He phased.

"Oh my god," she said.

"What is it?"

"This is...beyond... How long can you maintain this state?"

"My record is one hundred thirty-four seconds."

"Is it fatiguing?"

"Yes, but not in a traditional sense. Not as humans understand fatigue. It doesn't tire me, but the longer I maintain it the more difficult it becomes to maintain."

"Vibranium is such a remarkable substance. Physicists still don't know how it can do the things it's capable of. How it's so strong, but under certain conditions becomes unaffected by the forces of gravity or inertia. I think this could be the key." She added quickly, in a tone of getting herself back on track, "But what we need to figure out is how the phasing property of vibranium interacts with the Mind Stone. You can relax for a minute; I need to examine these results."

"Thank you, Dr. Cho."

From what she'd said, Vision concluded the hypothesis she was testing was that when he phased it caused a momentary lapse in his connection with the Mind Stone, which might gradually cause its integration with his body to decay. Was he breaking down? Did his lifespan have a limit?

The thought of dying distressed him, probably more so because he was currently sealed inside medical equipment while a doctor tried to figure out a mysterious ailment. He tried to console himself by contemplating that all humans had to face their own mortality, so if he was dying it was just one more thing he had in common with humans.

But he didn't want to die yet. He didn't want to leave behind his friends, the world, and most especially Wanda. They'd had so little time together. He should have found a way to spend more time with her, found a way to express what she meant to him.

What if he never got the chance to see her again? What if he could never hold her again? Never converse with her again?

Would she find out about his death from the news? Would she be able to attend the funeral? Would he have a funeral? What would happen to his body? Would it be buried? Studied? Melted down for the valuable vibranium?

What would he prefer? Perhaps it was time to think about a will. But would his will be legally respected? What rights did he have, as an android? The prospect of his possible death was bringing up many troubling issues.

"Well, it's not the phasing," Dr. Cho announced. "It has no effect on the Mind Stone's integrity, or its bond with the rest of your body. It phases in perfect synchrony with the rest of you."

The lid of the Cradle opened.

"Are we done with the tests?" Vision asked.

"We're taking a break. I need time to think."

* * *

A few minutes later found them in the building's rooftop garden. Dr. Cho was sitting at a table sipping at a cup of coffee. Vision floated at the edge of the roof, admiring the view of the city.

"What does it feel like when you phase?" she asked out of the blue.

"I'm not sure how to describe it in terms relatable for humans. It...thrums." He drifted over to her. "Why? Do you think it relates?"

"I think... Tony Stark is a brilliant engineer, but I think his hypothesis about how phasing works is wrong. From what my scans found, it's not that your molecules are realigning themselves to move around other molecules. Something else is going on. Something entirely...else."

"What?"

"I'm a biophysicist, not a theoretical physicist, but my best guess... Are you familiar with string theory?"

"Yes," Vision answered.

"So you know that while the standard model sees four dimensions—length, width, depth, and time—string theory posits several more, dimensions that are beyond our perception."

"Yes." He drifted down to sit in the chair across from her, giving her his full attention.

"My tests indicate when you phase, your mass is actually moving into another dimension. When you go through a wall, it isn't that you're moving _through _it so much as that you're going _around _it by moving in a direction the rest of us can't. That would also explain your ability to fly. If some of your matter moves into another dimension, your body's density can drop below the density of air. If something about the elemental properties of vibranium allows it to partially shift in and out of one or more of these extra dimension, along with anything it's bonded to, it would explain the behaviors of vibranium that seem to defy the laws of physics."

This explanation made more sense than any other he had read or hypothesized. "That is a brilliant analysis. Thank you. Is there any way I can help you prove it?"

"Unfortunately not. String theory is untestable with our current technology. Even if we can prove your mass changes, we couldn't measure where it goes." After a moment, and a few sips of coffee, she added, "And that doesn't help us figure out your symptoms. Your Mind Stone is perfectly integrated with your vibranium matrix. Whatever happened, it sounds like it originated from within the Mind Stone, and no instruments I have can analyze inside it."

"It's alright. I greatly appreciate what you have been able to determine."

"I don't think I've been able to determine anything," she said.

"You've determined the bond between my body and the Mind Stone is not deteriorated, and that is a great relief to me. Perhaps what I experienced was an isolated event. We may never know what caused it, but that mystery is acceptable if it never happens again."

"If it does, let me know."

"I will."

They sat in silence for a minute while Dr. Cho finished her coffee.

Vision looked off at the clouds and the birds. There was something else he desperately wanted to talk to her about, but he wasn't sure the best way to ease into the topic. "May I ask you a question?"

"Of course," she said.

"Does my presence cause you distress? Does my...existence cause you distress?"

She looked up at him, thinking. "Honestly, when I found out Tony had brought you to life instead of finding a way to destroy you, I was...upset. Beyond upset. Ultron took control of my mind and used me to create you. It was a horribly traumatic experience, and you are a reminder of that. But on the other hand...after the good you've done in the world, the lives you've saved, and after these tests, just seeing your powers in action, how flawless your design is...it's hard for me to believe I created you."

"But you did," Vision said. "I may have been Ultron's idea, but you are the one who designed me and constructed me. I was his dream; you made me a reality. I owe my existence much more to you than to him. I hope that, perhaps in time, you might...accept my gratitude for that."

She gave him a surprised look, like she knew what he was really getting at. "You're welcome."

He stared at the table. "If I tell you something, can it stay between us?"

"Of course. Doctor-patient confidentiality."

"There's a woman I've been seeing..." He waited a moment to let that sink in. Dr. Cho's look of surprise quickly transitioned to keen interest. He continued. "We care for each other deeply. I don't know if we'll ever get married. I don't know if she's interested in marriage, or if I'm legally considered human enough for our marriage to have legal standing. But if I ever do get married, I would want you to be there, as I would want Tony to be there. I know that, as a robot, I don't have parents, but in a way...I would like to think that...I do."

She stared at him, and he was glad he didn't need to breathe, because he would be holding his breath.

"It would be an honor," she said.

He smiled with relief. "Good. As I said, it may never happen, and if it does, it won't be for some time."

She leaned forward. "So tell me more about this girl you're seeing."


	16. Edinburgh

Butterflies are white and blue  
In this field we wander through.  
Suffer me to take your hand.  
Death comes in a day or two.

All things we ever knew  
Will be ashes in an hour:  
Mark the transient butterfly,  
How he hangs upon the flower.

Suffer me to take your hand.  
Suffer me to cherish you  
Till the dawn is in the sky.  
Whether I be false or true,  
Death comes in a day or two.

~Edna St. Vincent Millay, "Mariposa"

* * *

Vision's long nights of contemplation and meditation were inestimably improved by being in bed next to Wanda. The rhythm of her breathing was soothing. Her warmth was comforting. When her nightmares woke her, he was able to immediately comfort her, to hold her or stroke her hair until she fell back to sleep. He wished he could always be there for her.

They had been in Scotland for four days so far, and her sleep schedule was beginning to adjust to being in one time zone. Leapfrogging across the world—never staying in one place for more than a few days at a time, as Wanda and the other Rogue Avengers lived—took a toll on human health. They practically lived in a constant state of jet lag. It had been good to see the changes in Wanda after four nights of solid, rejuvenating sleep. She'd become more alert, easier with a smile, less jittery. This vacation was good for her. It was the first long vacation they were taking together.

It was 3:08 a.m. Wanda was sleeping peacefully. The bed in their hotel room was softer than she was used to, but after the first night she hadn't had any complaints about it. The hotel was a historic building, full of antiques and the scents of years past. They'd barely left their room at all their first day in the city. That had been partly but not entirely due to how charmed they both were with it.

Suddenly Vision's view of the darkened room was replaced with a flash of brightness and a quaking in the Mind Stone. An image...too blindingly bright to see clearly, too devastatingly violent to reconcile. Faces, so many faces, not all of them human or even humanoid, contorted in fear and pain. They were gone in a flash, and once they were gone he wasn't sure he'd seen faces at all, or just abstract curves and colors he'd imposed meaning on.

He phased out of the covers and stumbled to the bathroom. He closed the door before turning on the light and looking at the Mind Stone in the mirror. It was glowing right through the synthetic skin of his human façade.

The sensation faded away, along with the bright light, but he was left with a strange feeling of rawness.

He leaned forward, bracing himself with his hands on the sink. He was physically shaking.

It had been months since the episode that had led him to Dr. Cho. The Mind Stone hadn't acted up since, and he'd hoped and convinced himself that it had been an isolated incident. This time was different. It felt different. It felt worse.

"Vision?" Wanda opened the door slowly.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"I felt your panic." She walked up behind him and put her hand on his back. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know. It was similar to the problem I had with the Mind Stone before."

"Are you okay? Do you want to call Dr. Cho, or Tony?"

He shook his head. "No. It's over now. They would not be able to tell any more than they determined last time."

"Are you sure?" she asked, looking at his reflection in the mirror with deep concern and compassion.

"Yes." He turned to her and took her hands. "We promised we wouldn't let anything interrupt this time we have together."

"Your wellbeing is more important than our vacation."

"I'm fine. It has passed."

She placed her hands on his cheeks and examined his face. Satisfied he was really alright, she drew him down and placed a soft, soothing kiss on his forehead, then kissed his lips with equal tenderness. "Come back to bed."

Vision held her, her head pillowed on his arm, until she fell back to sleep.

He wished so much that he could make the world see the Wanda Maximoff he knew. Not the Scarlet Witch, but a young woman who had traded years of bitterness and vengeance for defending a world that feared her. She had sacrificed everything in her life to do what she believed was right, more than once, but she didn't allow those sacrifices to blind her to the possibility that what she thought was right might not be. Here was a woman with the power to destroy those who had wronged her, but she instead chose to use her power for good. She could alter the world with a wave of her hands, but she prefered to use those hands to pluck music from the strings of a guitar, or comfort her lover in the middle of the night. He wanted the world to understand, so she and the other Rogue Avengers could be pardoned, so she could come home to the compound. So he could ask her to marry him.

But that wasn't going to happen any time soon. If ever. He shouldn't count on it.

She deserved a normal life, a quiet life. The thought crossed his mind, not for the first time, that he could give it to her. He'd transfered a substantial amount of his wealth to his new identity, his human persona, enough that they could survive comfortably for years. When she was with him, no one looked too closely at her; she was just a woman who bore a resemblence to one of the Rogue Avengers in the company of a man who was obviously not one of them. With him, she could be incognito.

He had responsibilities, he reminded himself. He was an Avenger, sworn to protect the world.

Sworn? He'd never really been given a choice in the matter. He'd been brought to life to help stop Ultron, and he'd done that. He'd stayed with the Avengers because what else was a newborn crimson robot with super powers supposed to do? He hadn't had a choice, or any reason to want a different life than the one he was given.

He did now.

* * *

It was their last night in Edinburgh. They'd decided to take a late-night walk through the streets of the city they'd both come to love.

"So there's a ten a.m. to Glasgow, which would give us more time together before you went back," Wanda said, with a note of sadness at the prospect of their time together ending.

"What if I missed that train?" Vision asked.

"There's an eleven," she said, slightly confused. The 11 wouldn't give him much time to catch his flight, but it would probably be doable. But the 10 a.m. was late enough that he shouldn't have any trouble catching it.

"What if I missed all the trains?" he asked, stopping and turning to her with a smile. "What if this time I didn't go back?"

She picked up what he was suggesting. Running away together had crossed her mind, too. But it was a fantasy, a daydream too good to be real. "But you gave Stark your word," she reminded him.

"I'd rather give it to you."

He was so serious, so intense. He meant it. "Well, there are people expecting me too, you know. We both made promises," she argued, slightly dazed.

"Not to each other."

Giving her his word, promises... He was proposing...

They couldn't get legally married. Marriage took official documents, legal procedures that would be too risky for a fugitive. But he was offering the unofficial equivalent, a life together, devoted to each other above all other ties and responsibilities. Her mind was swimming.

"Wanda..." He placed his hands on her shoulders. "For two years we've stolen these moments, trying to see if this could work. And...I don't know...I..."

He was flustered. He'd been planning this, she realized, but now that the lines he'd probably rehearsed in his head over and over again were out, his nervousness was showing. It was charming, and she had to smile.

"You know what, I'm just going to speak for myself. I think..."

"It works," Wanda stated.

"It works," he said at nearly the same time.

"It works," she confirmed.

His eyes fixed on her with that familiar intensity. "Stay," he implored.

She squirmed under the pressure. This proposal was so sudden, so unexpected, she needed time to think. She knew what she wanted, but she had responsibilities, she had crimes to atone for. But she loved him. She was torn.

"Stay with me," he whispered.

She suddenly noticed the tv in the restaurant behind them, which had been showing a Scotland tourism ad moments before, was playing breaking news, footage of an alien spaceship over New York City.

Something had gone terribly wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End.


End file.
